


They Don’t Know Nothing About Redemption

by chibixkadaj



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, M/M, Minor Character Death, Polyamory, Post-Apocalypse, Songfic, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 00:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18304538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibixkadaj/pseuds/chibixkadaj
Summary: Yuta had lost it all--his family, his security, his life, his love.Yuta has found it all--in two humans too smart for a world designed for them to fail.From sex parties to blood packs and broken romance, if they had to live it all over again you know they wouldn’t change anything for the world.





	1. They don’t know nothing about redemption

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [kpopolymfics2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/kpopolymfics2019) collection. 



> This fic was my first attempt at joining K-Pop Olymfics 2019 as part of Team Alternate Universe 1!
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompt:**  
>  **Triple H – "Retro Future"**  
> [lyrics](https://popgasa.com/2018/07/18/triple-h-retro-future/) **|** [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oT8eXpXymmA) **|** [supplementary](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/6c/9a/84/6c9a84d065564759f39f36af15ea9bc3.jpg) \- [prompts](https://www.flickr.com/photos/squirrelbeat/7868338914/)
> 
> It was a pleasure and honor to be part of such an incredible team and to have produced a work I'm so proud of. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Lastly, please chat with me on Twitter @ChibiKadaj or https://curiouscat.me/ChibixKadaj ^^

**_They don’t know nothing about redemption_**

x

Yuta drags the edge of his finger around and around the rim of the beer bottle he’s holding between his thighs, his other hand occupied with his phone. There’s nothing to look at. He hasn’t had anything to look at in quite some time. No one has. That’s probably why a party like this is packed to the brim with writhing bodies and alcohol laced breath. There’s not much else for youth to do.

Yuta is _bored_ though. He hasn’t found a beat deep enough to drag him onto his feet and this drink has no chance at inebriating him to the point where he could make this night fun. The effort it would take isn’t worth it. Yuta chuckles at himself. Funny how it all feels the same. 

His thumb swipes absently over the cracks in his touch screen, moving images crawling at a snail’s pace in response. He’s nearing photos he should have deleted. He knows he should stop, but he’s a masochist at heart and when there’s nothing more to feel isn’t being blue better than being over it? So he draws in a breath he no longer needs and holds it. Four photos away. Three. Two. One…

A hand slides over Yuta’s phone and he blinks up to a head of faded red hair, dark black roots growing out and obvious, and bright eyes greeting him with a grin. Yuta is on the thin side, but this boy looks like wind could sweep him up in a moment’s notice; or like the wrong drunken step could bodycheck him to the floor. But there’s a pair of hands at the stranger’s waist that seem to be keeping them both steady and another set of dark eyes peering over the first’s shoulder through jet black bangs. The red haired one speaks first, “Hi.”

“...Hi?”

“Hi,” He chuckles, tilting his head slightly. “Having fun?”

“No,” Yuta chuckles too but he’s not exactly sure why. “Not really.”

“It shows,” The second boy pipes up with a smirk. “But don’t worry about it. That’s why we’re here.”

 _Oh?_ It passes through his head, but Yuta has no time to speak before one boy has pushed the hand with his phone gently against the plush, faux leather armrest of the chair he’s placed himself in, and the other is collecting the beer bottle from his legs. “Mind if I?” The all-black haired one asks, rim to his lips already with one eyebrow cocked. Yuta gives a little shrug and says “Go for it.” 

“Put your phone down, darling,” The red-ish one chuckles when he notices how Yuta’s grip has instinctively tightened. “There’s time for that later.” 

“Oh?” Now Yuta manages to vocalize it. There’s surprise in his eyes that he doesn’t try to hide and it only grows stronger when the boy settles in his lap. 

“Yeah. Much, much later.” 

Maybe the best part about these sorts of soirees is how accessible the rooms are. They’re always hosted in abandoned hotels: DJ in the lobby, bar broken open with a goldmine of alcohol if they’re lucky, and room upon room at each attendees’ disposal. The walls sing with static and ripping wallpaper, and most are stripped down of every necessity save the bed and, if one is lucky, sheets. _This one even has pillows,_ Yuta notes distractedly as his head hits one with a soft thud. The black haired boy is crawling over him now, trailing his nails over the shoulder his wide neck collar makes visible, up the side of his neck and then down the cut of his jaw to his chin. He tilts Yuta’s face upward and kisses him with precision that makes him shudder. It’s been a while for him, though completely by choice, and since these two seem to be doing the brunt of the work he’s content to lay back and let them. 

The other one walks carefully from the bathroom to the bed, careful to avoid shards of broken glass littering the carpet. “Carpets are so gross…” He mutters but doesn’t fixate on it because soon he’s settled next to Yuta’s side and starting to tug his jeans away from his hips. 

“Haaa,” He breaths with hushed excitement, watching Yuta’s half hard cock pop free from his boxers. Tucking some of the red dyed ends behind his ears, he bends forward to take a long lollipop lick up Yuta’s length. It’s slow and deliberate, taking close care to circle around tip and dip into his slit before he takes him as far in as he can. The boy sitting on his chest grins widely when Yuta shivers and parts his lips. There’s not a lot of airflow needed to his lungs so he moans audibly instead. 

“You’re very pretty,” he hums, running his fingers through Yuta’s blonde hair. “Bet you get that a lot, huh?” 

Yuta tries to focus, but the other boy is sucking him so well it’s hard to keep anything straight. He catches one thing, though-- this boy doesn’t speak Korean like he’s from here. Yuta knows because he’s no native either. 

“Wait,” his voice hitches, fingers biting hard into the starchy white sheets. The other is going down on him at twice the pace now, and the one who just spoke to him got tired of waiting for an answer and started sucking rather hard on his neck. 

“For what, baby?” He asks around the small mouthful of skin he’s pulled between his teeth.

“It’s...no fun if only I cum, right…?” 

There’s a squeak of surprise from the red one that’s so cute he surprises himself, slows his speed, and pulls his lips into a smile. He shifts back with a pop but not far enough to break the string of saliva keeping them connected. “Oh, I love partners like you.” 

In a whirlwind of clothes and bodies, they all end up switched around. The black haired boy has his back against the wall, Yuta is facing him, bracing with his arms behind his own body for stability. Their legs stay apart but crossed at the thighs, cocks rubbing against one another when the cool night air causes them to twitch. The final boy is settling between them while his friend covers himself and Yuta with lubricant gracelessly. Yuta’s eyes blow wide as he watches the red haired boy lower his body, taking them both in one go after stretching himself carelessly. He’s chosen to face Yuta, who can only moan out in surprise when their eyes lock as his sinks down to their hilts with nothing more than the guidance of his friend’s hands at his hips from behind him and a small stroke up his spine in praise. “That’s a _good boy_ ,” Yuta hears float between them, the last phrase standing out in English. The one in the middle lets out a shaky laugh. 

“I-is that what we’re playing tonight?” He asks, wiggling his hips to adjust.

“Do you want to?”

“Does he?”

They both look to Yuta with a gleam in their eyes, but all he can do is a half shrug. He’s still too shocked to process what’s happening, let alone that it’s happening or what to indulge in next. “Whatever you want…?”

Mind’s made up, they toss the games aside and focus instead on fucking. Yuta feels for the poor red haired male’s knees, certain that they ache under the pressure of his weight, though he doesn’t seem to falter at all from the pace he starts bouncing and rolling his hips at. His arms have draped over Yuta’s shoulders, his eyes rolling back and then shut and then struggling to open again because when his friend said Yuta was pretty he wasn’t lying and he wants to take in all of what he can. But Yuta’s gaze is elsewhere. 

“Oh this?” He asks with a laugh, pulling a hand back to point at the tiny constellation of Cancer tattooed on his collar. “Like it? You don’t have to be careful.” He slips his hand into Yuta’s hair and pulls him closer. “Think of it as a guide.” Yuta presses his lips to the other’s skin. “Yeah… like that. I like that.”

He isn’t holding back his moans when Yuta bites hickies into his skin along the pattern; big marks at the five pointed stars and small kisses over the connecting dots. Trembling fingers grasp blindly between their bodies until he can bring Yuta’s hand to his own chest. “Touch me-” Yuta, thoughtlessly, pinches his nipples. “Yes! Hnn, harder...” He gasps. “How is it? Tell me.”

Behind him, their third friend is growing louder and louder. His thrusting becomes more erratic, head thrown back and knocking against the thin wall in a rhythm that peels flecks of wallpaper into the air. “Faster,” he groans and the one in the middle obliges. Yuta can’t collect himself quick enough before he, too, instinctually leans back and pounds his hips upward as quick as he can. He’s chasing friction from the other two bodies. A hand sneaks between both their chests and grabs the red haired boy’s cock, stroking swiftly until he’s cumming suddenly between them--too fast to even gasp it out. And the way he tightens around them both throws them over their own edges and into the smooth tidepool of orgasmic aftershock. The middle boy turns back to kiss his friend, lips parted wide and tongue out to access the press of the other’s thumb. His attention then shifts back to kiss Yuta after, tongue diving dangerously into his mouth. There’s a prick, sharp enough that the boy winces and blood drips into the blonde’s mouth. Yuta groans and swallows, rolls his hips up at a lazy pace to match their slow kissing a few more times. Then, before he can even think about the little things like pulling out or cleaning up or drinking more, he falls into a fast darkness.

It’s not like him to fall asleep before sunrise. Even now, Yuta’s body protests in the waning hours preceding sunlight and the way it injects exhaustion into his muscles. _Wake up,_ something in him screams, and it’s good that it does because when he manages to crack an eye open he catches the boys in his pants pockets and jacket, fishing out as much cash as they can.

“Hey!” He shouts and they startle, multi-colored (worthless) bills flying everywhere around them. 

“Fuck,” The black haired boy hisses. “I thought you drugged him.”

“I did!” The other squawks back. Panic quickly washed over his features, causing his friend to set aside his anger and rush to his side.

“Shhh…” Yuta hears whispered into the air. A hand runs through the black roots to the red tips. “Shhhh…” 

Now’s his chance, his mind racing with possibility. Yuta could corner them. In this moment of weakness he could take his money back and maybe even get a bite to drink before his night comes to a close. 

He could kill them if he wanted to. But he just blinks instead. 

When he’s finally collected himself enough to move from his spot beneath the thin bed sheets, propelled mostly by the time ticking away swiftly, the other boys remember he’s there. 

“Don’t take a step closer,” despite his fright, the red haired--and now Yuta is noting taller--one steps in front of his friend and squares his shoulder. Fingers twitching at his side, Yuta’s wonders if there’s weapons hidden on him that he’s prepared to grab for. _Stupid._ Two human boys robbing their way through a party like this. _Of course he has a weapon._ And Yuta doesn’t want to deal with it. 

“It’s okay,” He raises his hands slowly and falls back on his bare butt onto the bed. “Well, it’s not okay I guess. But I’m not going to do anything.”

“What?” 

Yuta would laugh at how their voices seemed to harmonize in their shock. He just shakes his head instead. “I don’t really want to fight or anything… If you need the money you can have it.” A pause; a thought. “In return… will you stay with me for the morning?” Dark eyes glance nervously to the window. The curtains are heavy, dark, and leave no indication of outside life, but Yuta can feel the sunrise in his bones. He’s aware of the fatigue already; slowly creeping in the corner of his eyes only to consume him all at once. He’s still a touch too new to this sort of life to fight it. “That’s fair right? You’re vulnerable now, doing what you’re doing,” he doesn’t say ‘caught’ explicitly but the humans feel it pierce them like an arrow. “And I’m going to be too, so we’ll be even.”

They glance at each other. Really, Yuta’s at their mercy. Caught in a foreign place lingering with foreign bodies, all species under the sun, it only takes one sharp stake to render him to dust. Yuta’s over a lot of things, but life (undead and all) isn’t one of them. Not yet. Not when he’s made his promise. 

The humans haven’t moved yet, so Yuta dares to breath out a soft, “Please…?” 

“Okay,” The red one says. Yuta’s attention shifts back and the one who didn’t speak is blinking between his friend and the blonde in surprise. _That wasn’t what we agreed on?_ reads all over his face. He actually looks almost insulted that their telepathy didn’t seem to click. He presses on, having caught on to what’s happening. The prick of his teeth, the uselessness of their drugs, the sun. “You’re keeping us safe so… it’s the least we can do. We’ll watch you.”

“Thank you-- Ah… I don’t know your names?” They hadn’t exchanged those before their threesome. 

Silence stretches between the walls while they come to the shared conclusion that a vampire cannot steal their identities. 

“Lee Taeyong,” The red haired one offers finally. “And this is Ten.”

Ten nods once but he doesn’t bother shaking the skepticism from his gaze.

“Taeyong, Ten,” Yuta repeats. “Thank you.”

“And you?” Ten chirps, raising a brow. “We’re all about being fair right?”

“Nakamoto Yuta. Just Yuta is fine.”

They pause again. _Nakamoto?_ Yuta swallows and brushes past it. “I’ll be, uh, awake by evening. Like I said the money is yours so...if you need food or anything just if one of you could stay here I’d really appreciate it.”

He settles back into the bed, pulling the sheets as around his cold body as he can. It’s more a protection for any onlookers; comfort has eluded him since his turning, but the way his muscles slack with death isn’t appealing to the eye. As he waits, he hears rustling around him; they’re counting their money and securing the rest of their clothes. They whisper, but Yuta’s sharp ears could hear a pin drop. And, unfortunately, also the couple fucking three doors away.

“You need to do better when things don’t go over so well,” Ten coos gently, brushing Taeyong’s hair back and rubbing his shoulders when it prompts soft coughs. “It’s not going to go well every time and we’re not going to have someone as nice as him to let us off the hook.”

Taeyong huffs so hard his shoulders rise and fall, then he pouts. “I know. I didn’t mean to I just--”

Yuta senses the speed of his heartbeat rise and somehow, despite his human simpleness, Ten seems to catch on it too because one of his hands slips to the back of the taller boy’s neck and the other rests on his chest. “Breathe. You’re so good at what you do Taeyong. What we do together. I’m here too. I made the mistake too.” Whatever other comforting magic Ten’s words weave, Yuta will not know as the rise of the sun takes him out of commission. 

He doesn’t properly stir when his rest is over. He doesn’t feel rested. Though his bones ache and creak and pop with his movements, it’s merely the remnants of his postmortem state. It used to gross him out, but these days he’s finally become used to dying between the hours of 6AM and 5PM every day; it's just the chalky feeling in his mouth that still gets to him…

Yuta forgets he didn’t take the time to redress himself. The blanket falls from him completely, which wouldn’t matter if he wasn’t meeting eye to eye with the red haired boy-- Taeyong, from the night before. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Taeyong parrots, munching on a convenience store bag of cookies. 

“You’re here…”

“Yeah,” Taeyong deadpans like this meeting is the most obvious thing in the world. “We’ve been here all day. You asked us to be.”

“Right,” Yuta remembers that; he wasn’t drunk after all (though he did get a little drugged). “I just...didn’t think you’d do it.” 

“We’re men of our word.”

“You’re _thieves._ ” 

Taeyong’s dark eyes alight at that and a grin pulls at the corners of his lips. His shoulders shimmy like he’s been granted the highest honor in the world before he says, “We’re that too.”

He pops another cookie past his lips and hums, crunching the chocolate striped treat slowly to savor the moment. Something reads ‘not right’ about the scene and it’s not (completely) the dichotomy of the boy who was taking two cocks like nothing last night now munching innocently on store bought sweets. Yuta blinks a few times until it hits him.

“Where’s your friend?”

“Ten?”

Yuta nods.

“Showering.”

There’s no shower to be heard but Yuta decides best not to question. 

“Are you hungry?” Taeyong speaks again.

“Me?”

“Who else? Ten’s in the shower.”

There’s still no shower. 

Taeyong holds out his wrist and eats another cookie. “You can drink from me if you want.”

“Is that why you’re eating like a kid in kindergarten?” Yuta cocks a brow a laughs. “Trying to get your blood sugar up?” 

“Rude,” Ten calls from...somewhere. Yuta can’t quite pin it before the black haired boy is stepping out from the closet looking just a touch disappointed for reasons Yuta doesn’t know. “Don’t insult his eating habits he just likes snacks.”

“Hey!” Taeyong gapes but giggles when Ten crosses the carpet, bends over him, and plucks a cookie for himself. 

“It...was a joke…!” Yuta feels almost insulted. He’s not really sure what these two boys want--Ten in particular--considering that he’s been both the one coerced and the one nearly robbed. Somehow their actions still place Yuta in the position of attacker, if not predator, and he hasn’t done a damn thing! He doesn’t plan on it either. 

“Oooof, someone’s sensitive huh?” Ten rests a hand on his hip and leans in. Dark eyes trail up and down Yuta’s bare body in some mix of checking him out and sizing him up. “And here I thought it was only your body.”

“You talk a big game for someone I could fuck up in the blink of an eye.” 

“You talk a big game for someone who was fucked by us in a blink of an eye,” Ten hums. 

Taeyong chimes in, “Isn’t that why you’re still hanging around? I figured you wanted it again.”

Now he’s really taken aback. “Is that all you think about?”

“It’s all we do,” Taeyong corrects, focus shifting from the blonde man in front of them to the bag of cookies. He tips it over and watches sadly as only crumbs fall to the floor. 

“Sad life.”

“Says you,” Ten snips. “You weren’t complaining last night.” 

“Tonight’s a new night,” Yuta shrugs.

“Speaking of…” Taeyong’s long fingers tug at the edge of Ten’s black long sleeve and he hoists himself up to his feet. “We have somewhere else to be don’t we? Party starts in…” He pauses to stifle a soft cough, one hand unlocking and scrolling through his phone while the other fishes a lollipop from the back pocket of his skinny jeans. “About an hour. Might take a bit to get there.”

“I like being fashionably late.”

“Another party?”

They both look at him. “Yeah. Another party. This is what we do. Weren’t you listening two minutes ago?” ”

“Do you make a lot like this?”

“Enough, especially considering they never stripped us of our access to water, wifi, or electricity.” Ten shrugs. “It’s more than we’ll make anywhere else. People with money go to these things. But wouldn’t you know better than I?”

Yuta’s spine straightens on impact, words weedling their way through his ears and down deep into his core. He turns then to start grabbing his clothes; feeling more naked, more vulnerable, not that his physical state of being should matter and yet, he just prays that re-dressing will shake the stickiness of Ten’s exposure off of him. You have all I have now he thinks to say, but that both doesn’t matter and may not even be true. 

A hand falls onto his shoulder and jolts him out of his thoughts. It’s Taeyong. “Why don’t you come with us?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.” He rolls the candy from cheek to cheek while lips form around each word. “Got anything better to do?”

The answer is ‘No’ but Yuta won’t give it up that easily. “You don’t make sense. What more can you get from me?” 

“Lots,” A one shoulder shrug seems to be all Taeyong needs for an explanation. At his side Ten seems just as shocked as Yuta and, for once since their meeting, isn’t bothering to square his face into something stoic, smirking, and cool. It kind of makes Yuta feel powerful and almost is incentive enough for him to take Taeyong up on it. Almost.

The human telepathy they both seem to share sets in and Taeyong breaths a soft, “oh,” before turning back to his friend. “I’m just thinking… He’s a vampire right? And we’re not,” He shifts his tone to something that matches Ten’s, “‘Not every time is going to go as smooth as tonight, no one’s as nice as him.’” The other is not amused but Taeyong is chuckling while his voice returns back to normal, “If he’s so nice why won’t we have him help us out?” Then he turns to Yuta. “You’ll do it right?”

“Why would I?”

“Hmmmm…” He plucks the lollipop from his lips with a loud, aptly fitting _pop._ “Well you’ll get an endless food supply, a third of your money back, minus those cookies, and a lot of really good sex. What more could you want?”

Only one thing really but Yuta holds that to himself. Meanwhile, Ten finally seems to have warmed up to the idea--or at least is endeared to the effort Taeyong is making. Steady steps carry him up to Taeyong’s side and he drapes his arms over his shoulders, resting his chin at his on top of one “You came to this party for a reason right? We can just… carry that on for a little longer.”

“Yeah, yeah! Try one more party with us and if it’s not fun we’ll let you leave with whatever spoils we make. C’mon. Easy money, easy blood, easy sex.”

“...You make _me_ sound easy.”

“You’re not?” It’s the most genuine thing Ten has spoken to the blonde. “You didn’t put up much of a fight when we first came to you and unlike now we didn’t promise to share our money with you--” 

Yuta cuts in, “ _My_ money!”

“--and we didn’t even know about the blood thing. You’re already making out better.”

“Plus he hasn’t even tried my blood yet.” 

Taeyong’s weird confidence makes Yuta wonder if he’s fed vampires before. When the war first ended, it wasn’t uncommon for humans to prostitute themselves out as walking blood banks for a few extra bucks and a chance at survival. They just typically carry track marks Taeyong doesn’t seem to have. 

“I’m...okay. Thanks though.”

“But you’ll do it, right? You’ll join us?” Big, bright eyes look imploringly at Yuta. The same eyes that helped pull him into this bed. The ones that may have been crying before Yuta fell asleep. Taeyong’s face was one that could launch many ships alone, but his eyes could beckon over a thousand more. Yuta succumbs before he even has a chance to realize it.

“I’ll do it.”

The red haired human all but leaps into the air which sends Ten staggering back. 

Yuta looks over concerned, though he’d be a liar if he didn’t recognize the bit of eagerness forming in his chest. This is the most excitement he’s had in quite some time. “Tell me why though. What good do you think I’ll be besides a bodyguard?”

“I don’t know,” With another shrug, Taeyong presses the tip of his lollipop to Yuta’s lips and grins when he eventually takes it. Pinched brows and wide eyes assess Taeyong and his...whole everything as the human offers, “You’ve got a sexy vibe?”

x

Two beeps cut through the otherwise still silence of the empty parking lot, a few street lamps buzzing and fritzing on and off above them. Transportation has been airborne for over three decades but here they are, Ten and Taeyong tugging back a tarp from over their ancient convertible.

Long fingers drag over the dark red paint. For being an artifact, Yuta notes the car is in pretty good condition. He turns to the humans. “How?”

“Hm?”

“There haven’t been car service stations in years. How’re you managing after the war.”

“Secrets,” Ten presses a slender finger to his lips in jest, reaching for a lever beneath the steering wheel. The trunk pops. And with a slight stretch of his spine, Yuta catches sight of a few gallon containers. 

“Gasoline?” 

Taeyong grins, mimicking Ten’s movements with his own index finger and grinning behind it before he shuts the trunk and slips into the front seat.

“Back’s all yours,” he calls while Ten gets in the driver’s seat and adjusts the mirrors. So Yuta crawls with uncertainty over the side and situates himself stiffly in the back until they’re on their way. 

Through the crackling of the speakers comes a rough voice in a language Yuta can only half understand. He arches his back over the center console to catch a better listen as Ten sings with native precision and Taeyong keeps up by forming the correct sounds and syllables but in a way that gives off he doesn’t know what he’s saying. The cover of the CD in his lap reads “Billy Idol” and its apparently the only choice they have for the entirety of their trip.

“How much longer?” he dares to ask after what felt like hours. Ground travel really was _so slow_ and he never felt more spoiled than in this moment of longing for the airtrains of his childhood. 

“Thirty minutes,” Taeyong answers, checking the map on his phone. “Puts us over an hour late.”

“Perfect,” Ten purrs, bringing his elbow just to the side of Yuta’s own and reaching in front of him to grasp Taeyong’s hand. It looked like an idle action, but the air around Ten shifts so much that it catches Yuta’s attention; especially the rapid heartbeat that doesn’t go away until Taeyong rotates his hand to link their fingers more comfortably.

Tonight’s party, tucked away in plain sight at a formerly five-star hotel, has party goers spilling onto the front lawn and populating balconies. 

“It’s a big one,” Taeyong comments under his breath, rummaging around in a bag at Yuta’s feet for a new outfit and some old bottles of makeup. 

“Should we split up?” Ten asks.

“Split up?” Yuta repeats, looking between the crowds--vampires and demons and incubi who wear their races with pride in their appearances: fangs glinting with jewels embedded in the enamel, horns accessorized in chains and dripping with diamonds, bodies wrapped in pleather so tight their hosts may burst free with the slightest uncalculated movement--and the two human boys he now calls his companions. 

“Not tonight,” Taeyong cuts in. “It’s Yuta’s first night with us. We wouldn’t be good teachers if we just threw him to the dogs.”

“But what about the werewolves?” Ten raises his eyebrows and grins, teasing, but fortunately gives in without an actual fight, sparing Taeyong having to own up to the reservations Yuta can feel being shared between them. 

They change behind the car, Taeyong opting for a pair of red skinny jeans that he somehow has two of because Yuta gets the spare. This party seems fancier than where they met, so it’s a round of button ups and three-piece suit vests missing their jacket/slack counterparts and accessorized with cheap silver chains around their wrists and hugging their necks. The final touch is an unmarked spray bottle that sweeps over Taeyong and Ten’s skin, erasing their scent almost completely. 

_So that’s how they do it,_ Yuta ponders on the contents, but thinks it’s best to leave this secret unspoiled. For all of their safety.

They trail in one after another after another, Ten at the front and Yuta the rear. He keeps scanning, knowing no details as to how they pick their targets or even at what point into the party they strike. Thinking back to the other night, focusing on a down and out looking loner on the couch, seems like the best bet. But this party boasts none. They’re all too extravagant; too in love with the power post-war has given them. 

Their feet carry them to the bar and Ten slips over a couple bills in exchange for two beers and one cocktail that looks sugary sweet in bright red hues. Taeyong’s, of course, and he takes it with a grateful nod, careful as he sips from the small straw not to ruin his lip gloss.

“Whatcha think?” He leans over until his shoulder brushes Yuta’s and stays there. “Anyone stand out to you?”

“You didn’t give me any criteria of what to look for.”

“Are you always such a stick in the mud?” Ten shoots across the red head, sizing Yuta up with an unreadable look. “It’s not about criteria it’s about _feeling._ What do you feel? Who do you think looks like the right target.”

“Alternatively,” Taeyong supplies, pressing a hand gently to Ten’s chest in a silent _stand down, sweetheart._ “Who do you want to fuck?”

 _No one,_ Yuta thinks grumpily. But he’s here and he’s agreed to be here of his own free will. Something called him to that party to disrupt the doldrums of his every day and if that something wasn’t Taeyong and Ten and their invitation to fuck around, quite literally, then what else could it have been? So he shakes away all the reservations and frustrations, all the things that lay weights deep on his soul and turn the survival he’s promised into something he detests, and really looks around. 

“There,” he settles, index finger poised and extended towards the stairwell where multi colored lights pulse and splatter against the tile wall. “Let’s see what’s up with the dance floor.”

Ten takes another beer to go that he and Taeyong pass back and forth while they head towards the stairs, passing by glances at Ten’s ass or Taeyong’s pretty face. The second floor ballroom is thriving with patrons, being upon being moving in stride with and against each other and a broad man with jet black hair and a soft face perched at the front. His hands--four of them, Yuta counts-- glide over the knobs and records at his DJ deck while the speakers bounce from the heavy bass of remixed retro with 2000s electronica. Yuta squints. He looks (and even plays) like another friend of the past, but Johnny was sacrificed to the witches.

When he blinks back, both humans are gone and he hurries between cliques to find them. 

“Boo,” He jumps when hands fall onto his shoulders, another set covering his eyes, and when he can see again he meets two mischievous grins.

“You gotta stay alert if you want to keep up,” Taeyong whispers though Yuta can only catch every other word between the chatter and music around them. He takes the beer from Ten again and takes a sip, grimacing because it’s no match for Taeyong’s drinks of choice, and when he hands it back is quick to chase the wheat and barley with a piece of candy. 

Yuta shakes Ten away from him and shifts until they’re both in front of him and grinding leisurely to the beat. Occasionally someone pops over, taps one of their shoulders, and they assess the worth of the newcomer. Nearly everyone fails. But when Yuta turns to shake off someone his eyes settle on a short but strong-looking sprite, tips of his pointed ears peeking out from a head of short, dark brown hair. He looks unassuming but Yuta knows the source of the silks that make up the garments draping around his torso because he went to school with the heir to that entire fortune. He and the boy lock eyes and Yuta, on an instinct he didn’t know he had in him, raises a brow and licks over his lips. The other smirks in reply and nods his head back towards the same stairwell. 

“Found one,” he tells Taeyong and Ten more triumphantly than he intends to; or rather, he feels more excited at the catch than he thought possible. 

“Will he take friends?” Ten asks, pushed all the way onto the tips of his toes to see who Yuta has found. 

“We’ll find out. C’mon.” He extends a hand that Taeyong takes immediately, leaving Ten to grasp Taeyong’s free one and leave the beer glass following behind. 

“Hey handsome,” the sprite glances up with his sparkling eyes. He’s unflinching as Yuta leans in over him, elbow braced against the wall, and hardly shifts when a finger taps underneath his chin. A little ways away, Taeyong and Ten marvel at Yuta’s ease in flirting. They figure he must really like the guy. Yuta continues, “What’s your name?”

“You can call me Moon.”

“Moon?” Yuta licks over his bottom lip, leans in further. “So, does that mean I get to see your _dark_ side?”

“For a price.”

“Name it,” Yuta leans in to draw his lips over the sprite’s neck. The other hums, tilting his head to give Yuta more space to work. Then, instead of an answer, he asks, “You don’t come alone do you?” 

Yuta’s not sure if he’s thrilled or frustrated that the other has caught onto his human companions lingering a little less than obviously behind him. Then again he did bring them over… He decides to twist it a bit to give himself the upper hand. “I can make this more fun if you like it like that. Or if you just want me I can send them away.”

“Bring them,” Moon says with a glint in his eye and a grin on his lips. “I have a liking for pretty things. And they’re pretty pretty.”

x

It’s not every day Ten gets a partner just his height and he revels in it, showing off his strength in maneuvering the unconscious body all on his own with ease. “

“Three on one might’ve been a little unfair,” Taeyong remarks. There’s no sympathy in his voice though. Not while he’s counting what little money Mr. Moon had on him.

“He didn’t seem to mind,” Ten shrugs. “He really took a liking to you Yuta. I don’t think we even needed to be here.”

Yuta’s cleaning cum off his chest in the bathroom, though one eye stays fixed on the humans half in learning their next steps and the other to ensure the sprite is well and truly knocked out. He wonders for a moment where they get their pills and how it is that neither of them are taken under their effects. But the more he thinks on it, the louder Ten’s voice, muttering “ _Secrets~_ ” grows in his head.. 

“So,” Taeyong starts, hoisting himself up onto the counter next to the sink while Ten “disposes” of Moon outside and down the hall. “What did you think? Fun right?”

Yuta glances up. He’s hard pressed to admit it but… “Yeah, that was fun. You two aren’t really doing anything _that_ bad.”

“We’re not,” Taeyong grins until it’s broken by a small coughing fit of sorts. He turns away, lips pressed into the crook of his arm while his other hand digs out some candy from his pocket. “They don’t need their money like we do. They can get by on fucking or drinking blood or summoning their needs.” He adds after a moment, words jumbling every so often around his lollipop. “I’ll let you in on a secret. There’s a whole underground market run by other surviving humans that has everything we want. Clothing, tools, purified water bottles and non-processed foods. Things that weren’t tainted when the power plants exploded and everything went to hell. But it’s owned by other _humans_ so of course the prices are ridiculous.”

“Selfishness persists despite losing almost everything, huh?” Yuta returns with a snort. 

“You’d probably know better than I would, Mr. _Nakamoto._ ” 

They stare at each other for a moment, the only movement between them coming as Taeyong shifts his candy from cheek to cheek. 

“You’re right,” the blonde relents, pushing a hand through his hair. “I would.”

“Anyway,” Taeyong shrugs and shifts until his back is nicely pressed against the mirror and a leg is drawn to his chest. “I wouldn’t call either of us Robin Hood or anything. But people here have things they don’t need and we do so we’re taking it back and putting it to use.”

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“I wasn’t sure if the morality of it all was making you second guess joining us. I had a lot of fun tonight. I’d really like you to stay.” 

“...but why?”

“Do you need a reason?” 

Yeah, Yuta does. But he wasn’t going to ask for it. 

“You look hungry,” Taeyong leans in, well aware of the topic shift but equally as ready to ignore it. “Want to drink?”

Yuta watches his wrist extend out between them then flits his gaze back to those unreadable, steady eyes. “I...Isn’t it weird?”

“Why would it be? You’re in our care now, makes sense that we should feed you.” Though there is no “we” here, Ten is still busy and Yuta feels like that makes up a large part of why he feels uneasy. Then there’s the notion of ‘whose care’ because while Taeyong and Ten are the ring leaders, Yuta’s reworked biology gives him an eternal upperhand. 

“Go on,” Taeyong encourages in a tone two pitches softer. “I really don’t want to starve you.”

Yuta’s touch graces down the back of his arm slowly until he can loosely grip at the jut of his wrist, counting the beats of his pulse beneath his fingertips. It’s...awkward, to say the least. Yuta’s meal times usually subsist of blood packs since rodents are sparse and typically radioactive when found. There’s a hospital by his home he’s been raiding, though its stock is getting low and by the looks of it there won’t be much opportunity to swing by if he continues with the other two. He bends forward and sniffs, revels in how sweet it smells then swallows down guilt. He hates these instincts. And it’s been an intentionally long time since he’s had warm, fresh blood on his lips but...

But Yuta finally leans in and lets his fangs elongate, piercing the soft flesh of Taeyong’s wrist. He takes slow glups, despite how hungry he’s now realizing he’s become, but stops after seven. He lets his tongue collect the remaining droplets while his saliva heals the wounds. 

“Not so bad, right?” Taeyong’s usually confident tone is tinged with awe as he inspects over his wrist. Not a mark in sight, and good thing too because Ten is quickly barging into the bathroom triumphantly. 

“Found something really special,” He grins, tossing a large and glistening, iridescent jewel Taeyong’s way. The redhead shifts, nearly stumbles into the sink, but catches it all the same. 

“What’s this?”

“More than enough to cover all our needs once we find the right buyer. This is a sprite stone. They say they have magic even mortals can use when tapped into correctly. Could you imagine?”

Taeyong smiles back at Ten. “Only in my wildest dreams.” That seemed to make the younger’s shoulders shimmy more.

“But the guy’s body?” Yuta, voice of logic who is still hurriedly licking blood off his lips, cuts in.

“Brought him to a different suite with a few other passed out occupants. I think we should be safe here but if we want to move there’s another empty one a floor up.”

“Let’s go.” Yuta nods his head towards the door. “Better not to stay where all of our scents are.”

Taeyong and Ten blink towards him then at each other. That’s not something either have thought about before. And as Yuta starts to gather the last of his clothes he hears Taeyong elbow Ten and say, “See! Told you he’d be a good add on.” 

“Yeah yeah...I guess you’re right.”

Taeyong links his arm with Ten’s and slips the stone into his pocket. When he leans in it’s to nuzzle the other’s cheek as aggressively and affectionately as possible. “I know. I always am.”

x

He’s used to strange smells when he starts to stir for the day, but what hits Yuta as the sun sets is sickeningly savory and sweet in a way he’s never been a fan of. It takes all levels of self control not to roll to his side and gag both for his own sake and for the other two.

“What the hell is that?” He groans, shifting and stepping from the single king bedroom out into the kitchen of their suite. Ten hums cheerfully to himself, tossing a combination of cooked egg (one of the scents), mayonnaise (another key in the combination making his stomach churn), cucumbers, and potatoes. Next to him is an open jar of strawberry jam, a lynch pin secret ingredient that has Yuta tilting his head and thinking aloud “Why?”

“Ten wanted to make dinner,” Taeyong says next to him, leaning against the raggedy sofa turned pull out bed that he and his friend had shared after the previous night’s lack of success. “This is what he bought.”

“What is it?”

“A sandwich. Egg salad, crab, strawberry jam, coleslaw.” 

“And you’re going to eat it?”

“I have no choice. Ten’s making it.” 

_This is true love,_ Yuta keeps to himself. Up until now, Taeyong has been the one scavenging their surroundings and cooking meals that could rival some of the five-star restaurants Yuta went to in his human youth. Nowadays food meant next to nothing for Yuta, but even he was enjoying the flavors that Taeyong could manage. ”I can’t believe you let him spend the day’s grocery budget on _this._ ” 

“Well I refuse to make it so here we are. Expect to eat it once at least every few months. When Ten gets cravings no one’s say matters.”

“You sound like I’m making it out of nails and houseflies,” Ten cuts in, setting the bowl down. He lays out nine pieces of bread before him, slathering the potato-egg salad on three slices, then the jam on the middle three, and finally some prepackaged crunchy coleslaw. “It’s good! Trust me.” 

Yuta looks at Taeyong in slight horror, taking the triple decker, multicolored sandwich gingerly between his forefinger and thumb. Taeyong raises both eyebrows back then, as if challenging Yuta to a test, parts his lips and takes a large bite. 

Ten’s halfway through his own sandwich when the vampire sucks it up and takes his chance. The textures meld strangely on his tongue. The soft and tangy, the sticky sweet, the crunchy, all around a mouthful of bread that somehow held up against an onslaught of other flavors. It’s not bad! At the very least it cuts through his mostly dead and desensitized taste buds and, like Taeyong’s cooking, lets him enjoy more than molasses thick blood. 

“Soooo?” Ten sing-songs, already back in the kitchen to make himself another one. 

“It’s good,” Yuta relents, smiling at the youngest male around his last bite. 

“Yes!” Ten quite literally jumps for joy. “Taeyonggie, want another one?” 

After a few coughs into his arm, Taeyong pads over to the small counter where Ten’s spread takes up the entire space and says, “Just jam this time.” Which is almost worse to Yuta than what he thought of the initial sandwich. 

“You and your sweet tooth,” Ten laughs, slathering two knives worth of red goo onto white bread and handing it over. 

“Makes the rest of me taste good, wouldn’t you say?” He accepts the sandwich with bright eyes then looks between them both and smirks. With all the times and ways they’ve tasted each other by this point, Yuta can’t say Taeyong is wrong. 

Taeyong’s tastes are endearing. They have such little accessible in this world and yet Taeyong always has his way of finding snacks. He’s resourceful. Even now, since Ten seems satisfied with the number of sandwiches he’s consumed and has prepared a few more for tomorrow’s travels, Taeyong is scraping the remaining strawberry jam, along with sugar packets he’d taken from a coffee station and a leftover pack of gelatin Ten stole for who knows what reason--actually, maybe just for this reason now that Yuta’s thinking about it--into an unearthed, old (but aggressively cleaned up) ice tray to form it into candy. The blonde admires his dedication to the things he likes.

x

Two months of sex-capades and long car rides, collecting a weird mix of mystical riches and worthless wads of cash, Yuta finds himself taking a pause to remember just how it all happened.

The barren scenery shoots past his vision until he folds his elbows over the center console to make a pillow for his chin; then all he can see is the smog filled night sky. Taeyong is sleeping in the passenger’s seat. Ten has headphones in to keep himself focused. He pays Yuta no mind despite the rustling he’s causing in the back of the car and only shifts to hold Taeyong’s hand when the other starts coughing gently in his sleep. For a half second his eyes shift from the road and flash with something unreadable Yuta doesn’t catch. He grips his hand tighter and leaves Yuta wondering how they became so inseparable. And how, despite that, they let him in.

Yuta has experienced them separately only once each:

First there’s Ten who, in true Ten fashion, brought their time isolated and together in and explosive bursts of energy. 

This night they’ve split up. The party is small, the threats low. In fact, it seemed to be more populated with humans than anywhere else they’d attended; and the creatures around are drunk and drugged pacifists who prefer the ease of a good meal accompanied by a good fuck over the societal standards imposed upon them. Taeyong takes _two_ into a back room with him with a glint in his eye and a grin to Yuta and Ten before he vanishes, leaving them with one partner each.

Ten makes good work of the first one in record time--“He watched me take my clothes off and came on the spot,” he whines, still shoving bills into his unbuttoned jeans--and meets Yuta as he’s finishing up with his second. She slumps against him, pink and satiated, while he takes the chance to drink a little for himself. He pulls her wrist away from his lips as Ten enters. 

“Sexy,” The raven haired boy remarks with a raise of his eyebrows. She doesn’t look like she’s going anywhere soon and there’s another man face down on the floor who Ten doesn’t even want to step over. “Shall we go somewhere a little more...private?” 

“Sure, just…” Yuta doesn’t finish the sentence, setting the girl on the bed and pulling a blanket around her plump, naked form. He rolls the man onto his side for good measure too, props him up with a pillow, and mutters something about not wanting him to choke on his own vomit. “Saw it too many times in school,” he explains to Ten as they slip out. “It’s really unpleasant.”

Ten hums like he doesn’t care because, spoiler alert, he doesn’t, but he is happy that Yuta’s spoils add another 50,000 won to their collective haul and they can eat a nice dinner or two before their next engagement. 

Before they completely close the door of their new space, Ten peers out and around the hall, tapping fingers betraying the anxiousness his face is trying hard to hide. 

Their relationship is tenuous at best but Yuta has realized over their last few weeks together that Ten isn’t a bad person; just standoffish in all the ways that’ll keep him and Taeyong protected. It’s no wonder he still hasn’t accepted Yuta into their party, even if it’s annoying as _fuck._ But still, he doesn’t feel bad when he sets aside their ongoing back-and-forths to tell Ten, “He’s okay.”

Ten frowns hard, turning back to face the room. “That wasn’t--...hmph… Fine. how do you know?”

“His scent is strong and his heartbeat is steady, I can feel it all.”

Ten pauses before pulling the door softly shut behind him. “...Even with the spray…?” 

“The spray works, don’t worry. But I’ve been with you both enough that feeling you out is pretty second nature. So trust me when I say he’s okay.”

“Can’t believe _I’m_ saying it but...I trust you _Nakamoto_ Yuta.” He takes a seat in front of him on the wooden floor and draws his knees to his chest. 

Yuta brushes his hand through his hair in lieu of a _Don’t mention it_ and says instead, “You must be having a hard night if you’re saying these kinds of things to me.”

“What of it?”

He’s come to learn that Ten’s all bark and no bite unless he really needs to be. A hardened shell (tasting of chocolate or cherry if Taeyong has his way) around a soft, honey center. He’s also fun to tease, when the moment calls for it. Now’s not that time. “Nothing. But are you okay?”

Ten _humphs_ again and draws his knees closer, wraps around himself tighter until his cheek can rest atop his knees. “Fine…”

“But…?”

“God, why are you so pushy?” 

“I think I’m picking it up from Taeyong.”

“Taeyong’s not pushy,” Ten mutters, lips now muffled against his knees. “Taeyong’s perfect.”

“Oh… _Oh._ ”

“Shut up! I’m just worried okay? I’m always worried when he’s off on his own.”

“He’s good at what he does, I’m sure he’s fine. He always is.”

“Yeah he’s good but that doesn’t mean I like him being good with others.” 

Ten looks good in anything. All colors suit Ten’s nice complexion and dark hair, but green, Yuta decides in that moment, deep, dark, jealous green probably isn’t one of the better ones. 

“How long has it been like this? Have you felt like this?”

Ten peels away from himself to shoot Yuta a look. It’s the softest thing the vampire has seen...well, ever, and slits cracks into his non-beating heart. “Since the day we met,” he starts silently counting on his fingers, “fifteen or sixteen years ago.”

“What the hell, Ten,” Yuta laughs but it’s humorless and...sad. He feels for Ten who has had to live in a love so fiery and all consuming he can’t quite do anything about it. “Why haven’t you told him?”

“I have.” 

“And?”

“He says it isn’t right, right now. ‘The world isn’t set up in such a way that we can love each other too freely.’ He says we need to survive first. The rest can come later.”

“If later ever comes...”

“You have all the ‘laters’ in the world, Mr. Morbid. I don’t want to hear this from you,” Ten snips. “But he’s right though. If we become any more into each other it’s going to make trying to get through this even harder. We have to live like we’re going to lose one another any day now. Anything else will hurt too much.”

Yuta’s head swims in the silent solemness that fills the room. He’s always known these boys are smart, but Gods be damned they really were too keyed in for their own good. It made him rather sad; the reality that even the most carefree seeming people were plagued with their post-war realities. His eyes soften.

“Come here. I’m tired of seeing you look so sad,” Ten beckons Yuta over just to grab at his open shirt and maneuver him back to the bed by the force of their lips crushing together in a sloppy half kiss. Yuta falls back hard, wincing when Ten’s knees drive into his thighs before falling at either side of his waist. He arches his back to slip his tongue into Yuta’s mouth, the vampire obliging because...well...what else is he going to do? It’s better than talking. 

Ten gasps hard when breaking them apart, forcing Yuta’s hand to his chest by his grip on his wrist and asking, albeit roughly, to be played with.

“You sure about this?” After everything he’s confessed about Taeyong, Yuta has to be sure.

Ten pauses, swallows hard and says, “Yeah.” 

Ten is soft as sin. He kisses with precision, a sixth sense that pinpoints all of his partners sensitive spots. Yuta can’t contain himself when he latches onto his neck and plays the part of vampire with his canines trailing over Yuta’s skin before he sucks down hard. “Fuck,” he breaths. 

“A vampire with a vampire kink?” Ten teases and it brings a laugh, an honest to Gods mirthful laugh, to Yuta’s pale lips. 

“Seems so. Do it again.”

Ten obliges in a fit of giggles. His arms and legs form their way around Yuta’s body until they fall to their sides, limbs entangled and erections barely restrained against one another. Ten lets out a shaky breath as he ruts their hips together and Yuta grabs at his hair. They’re rough in all the right ways with each other, sweat and sex already lingering on their skin, and when Ten rolls onto his hands and knees Yuta takes a rare chance to drop the act of dominance and treat Ten with a tenderness that catches him of guard. Yuta drags his tongue over each jut of his spine, kissing here and there, until he reaches the top and spots a detail he’d overlooked despite all their escapades: a fine line Pisces constellation tattooed into his left shoulder; exactly opposite Taeyong’s Cancer. He takes a bite, graceful and quick over the star in the center just to watch Ten jolt beneath him. Yuta chuckles, _Cute._

The sex is quick, for Ten is much more tired from his last rounds than he originally let on and Yuta, though no longer burdened with a human’s lack of stamina, doesn’t want to linger any longer than Ten is willing to give. When the human’s heart seems to slow with sleep, Yuta shifts his hips and pounds with languid precision, his other hand snaking around to wrap over Ten’s length and jerk him off at a lazy pace. Raven bangs fall over Ten’s eyes and white sheets gather in his tight grip. He rocks back at a beat and a half faster than what Yuta is giving him, but can’t find it in him to rush any more--not with the way Yuta shoots stars into his vision every time he hits Ten’s sweet spot. 

“I...Can’t… I’m…” Ten pants, dropping his chest to the bed for that last bit of friction, to indulge in one more round of his senses being overloaded. But then Yuta tugs him up. Chest to back, Ten tries his best to glance back but can’t quite catch Yuta’s eye. That’s okay, though, because Yuta’s hips soon start driving upward at double the pace. His hand around Ten’s cock keeps them rooted in place and the other one he brings to tease Ten’s chest only helps send Ten further and further into ecstasy. The blonde turns to nuzzle into the crook of Ten’s neck, drawing one long lick up from base to ear, before he whispers, “Can I have a bite?”

“Y-Yeah. Hurry… I can’t-!”

Yuta sinks his fangs into Ten’s skin and hums at the rush of sticky warmth that starts to trickle onto his tongue. Ten tastes so good… he knows the hormones coursing through him--the same ones that have just caused Ten to cum all over Yuta’s hand--are influencing the sweet flavor, but he can’t help noting the...freshness Ten possesses that he hasn’t had in a while. Maybe it’s just the difference between them; Ten and Taeyong aren’t the same after all. 

It takes no time for Yuta to finish alongside, or rather behind, Ten. He indulges in a few more thrusts as Ten’s head falls back onto his shoulder and their bodies melt together slowly. 

“Damn…” Ten gasps, voice hoarse simply from yelling through his orgasm. “You’re really good… I’m,” he trails off and stays limp while Yuta takes control of separating their bodies and cleaning them up.

“You’re?”

“Glad you joined…’ Ten curls onto his side, pressing closer to Yuta by doing so, “But don’t tell anyone. I have appearances to keep.” 

Yuta chews on that thought along with his own bottom lip. Ten? Glad that Yuta joined? Seems impossible, almost. His hand twitches in uncertainty before smoothing down the human’s bare shoulder. “Y-yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ten shifts again, stifles a yawn while his eyes slip shut. “Hope you are too.”

That same night, maybe as a result, left Yuta and Taeyong on their own as well. The hotel was too nice to not take advantage of and Ten plans to make use of the full, only slightly moldy, porcelain bathtub and separate standing shower. “He does this as often as he can,” is the explanation Yuta receives after the first hour passes. “It’s his,” he raises his hands in air quotes, “‘alone time.’” 

Yuta nods a response, lips busy around his plastic straw, sipping unceremoniously from an old blood pack he swiped from a fellow vampire the night before and cringing all the while. Taeyong laughs at him. “I don’t know why you’re still doing that. I’m right here.” 

Yuta gives him a one shoulder shrug in response, knowing full well it’s because Ten would rather have Yuta’s head on a pike than his lips on Taeyong’s neck time and again. And now he understands exactly why. He just keeps that to himself.

“So… I have a question for you,” Taeyong starts around a lollipop so potent in its cherry flavoring Yuta can smell it in the air around him. “Unrelated. You don’t have to answer. Just...Who was he? Or she, I guess. I don’t want to mismark you.”

The vampire eyes him up and down. He didn’t even think he let on? But Taeyong always has looked like he’s had something up his sleeve, knowledge that Yuta himself may not even be privy to. Still he asks “Who?” instead of relenting right away. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t look at us when we’re fucking, like you’re thinking about someone else each time and I’m just curious who. You’re such a man of mystery, who could possibly have swept you off your feet.”

The human boy doesn’t fidget as Yuta scans over him again, an accomplishment really because Taeyong seems to squirm at even the slightest gust of wind--well, unless it’s involving Ten.

“Dong Sicheng,” he finally answers. 

“Oh. Not from around here either?” 

“We met at an international school,” for rich and spoiled children. “Our families became business...partners of sorts and he moved here after graduation.” 

Taeyong whistles out a breath and nods and leaves it at that.

“What…” Yuta huffs and shoves a hand in his pocket as frustration etches into all his features. “Not going to ask me what happened to him?” 

“Why would I? It’s your secret to keep.”

“You’ve already breached privacy. Not going to deal the final blow? Smash open the memories I’ve been trying to shove away for the last year and a half? I--” Taeyong’s hand on the curve of Yuta’s neck into his shoulder stops the tirade. Yuta stops. Then he blushes. He’s worked so damn hard on keeping his cool, smiling his bright smile and keeping the world out and away from anything past his surface. How the _hell_ did Taeyong break him so fast? And why exactly had he let him…

“You’re okay,” Taeyong tells Yuta rather than asks. “I know you don’t breathe but do whatever the vampire equivalent is.” He peels back after and sits on the bed. “I want to get to know you more, yeah, but I didn’t ask to hurt you. I don’t keep an arsenal of my friends’ secrets with the intent of tearing them apart. That’s Ten’s gig,” he smirks. “Also it’s kind of bad for business. If me, a regular old human, can catch on I’m sure other creatures can smell it all over you.”

“You’d be surprised,” Yuta mutters, thoughts dwelling less on their ‘clients’ (or maybe ‘victims’ is better way to put that…) and more on the family and friends he ultimately left behind. He glanced to Taeyong. “Does Ten feel the same?”

“Probably not. Ten doesn’t think about those things like I do.” And...Ten probably hasn’t grown as fond of Yuta as Taeyong has. “If you ever want to talk about it, though, I’m here to listen. No pressure.” 

Taeyong is an anomaly if Yuta’s ever met one; and he thought Sicheng was peculiar. Maybe they just share that in common. They’re _compelling._

On the one hand, Sicheng who stayed quiet because he was always assessing; whether that was the next move in a game, the answer to a test, the jumbled mess of Yuta’s feeling. They’d spent the first year together with Yuta thinking the other hated him, and having sex almost every night. But Sicheng knew how to play well. He knew exactly where his emotions fell and all the right ways to pursue them. He never gave away too much, but he never withheld anything either. Leading anyone on wasn’t in his interests, but damn was it fun for him to try. Yuta took a little too long to figure it out, but once there, their relationship couldn’t have been better.

Now there’s Taeyong, who looks like he’s taking the whole world into his big bright eyes and hardly thinking of it but Yuta’s learned he’s _smart._ More than intelligent, Taeyong has intuition that is likely the reason he and Ten are still alive despite what they risk day in and day out. This isn’t to knock Ten, Yuta doesn’t need to justify in his own thoughts but sometimes he worries the other has abilities beyond a normal human and the last thing he needs is one of Ten’s trademark ear pulls. Ten just has different strengths. He doesn’t check his recklessness as well as Taeyong does. Or at the very least, he doesn’t let on to a lot of his own inner workings like Taeyong who slips them in strategically to get them what they want or where they need to go. Taeyong seems like the type who could write novels around one person after an hour of getting to know them, and another of silent observing. Yuta wonders, had they not crossed the line into this kind of life and opted to never turn back, just what he would’ve become. 

“I like you Yuta,” Taeyong interrupts his thoughts with his soft comment and a tilt of the head as he slowly yet suddenly crawls into the other’s lap. “I like you a lot.” He plucks the pack from Yuta’s hand and guides his blood dyed lips to his own neck. Wordlessly encouraging him to drink, Taeyong slips a hand through blonde hair and holds him with gentle firmness he hasn’t been familiar with in some time. 

_‘I like you a lot,’_ But what does that mean when Taeyong’s practically betrothed to his best friend, now that Yuta’s learned of Ten’s love for him? And why would that even matter to him? Why...would Yuta want them to matter?

He’s only here to quell his boredom, after all.

Resigned, despite his tongue still tasting Ten, he takes one salt filled lick up the side of his sweaty neck and sinks his teeth into his flesh. There’s a twinge to Taeyong’s blood that Yuta can’t ever quite place. The human strokes down his spine when Yuta pauses. “Swallow…” So he drinks slow and deep until he feels undeniably more refreshed than any blood pack could provide. Pulling away Yuta licks the last remaining droplets away before lapping at the wounds. “How was it?” Taeyong pulls back a bit to smirk.

 _Good. Like everything about you._ He doesn’t realize until it happens but soon Yuta smirks back too. It pulls a giggle to Taeyong’s lips. “Yuta?”

 _Oh fuck._ “Hm?”

“I like you,” Taeyong repeats as he moves away, back to his spot on the floor. “Enough to hope that maybe one day you’ll look at me the way you look when you think about Sicheng-ssi.” 

Yuta stills then, wordless and dumb. The door to the bathroom clicks open. They don’t speak about it again.

x

“Ten I’m tired,” Taeyong whines from the passenger’s seat, curled on his side towards their driver so he can both sleep and still hold his hand.

“You think you’re tired?” Ten says with a lazy laugh. “No I know… I didn’t realize this one would be so far. But it’ll be worth it, I promise.”

Taeyong parts his lips to reply but a small bout of coughs cut him off instead. 

“Ah...careful, baby…” The last word in English, Ten unlatches their hands and rubs as far down Taeyong’s shoulder as he can reach with his eyes still on the road. 

“You really think so?” Yuta picks up for Taeyong from the back. “The party’s worth I mean. I feel like we’ve used more gas getting there than we’ll be able to make up with whatever we find.”

“No but…” Ten starts, shooting Yuta a look via the rearview mirror that says _don’t question me, punk._ “We had to go this way to get back home, anyway. Think of this like a pit stop. We’ll make a little bit extra and then we can go home even happier.”

“Home,” Taeyong repeats under his breath. He wants that. Ten knows.

“Hey, do you see those lights? We’re almost there!”

A new place, a new collective of rich--or at least not wanting for much--creatures drinking and grinding to the pulse of an electronic beat. It’s routine now. As routine as Taeyong popping candy between his lips and Ten’s long baths and weird sandwich making. Taeyong takes a few more minutes to stretch before finishing his makeup. 

“Guess this is alright,” he says with a laugh. “Looks promising enough. I won’t question you next time, Ten.”

“Good,” The younger beams back, taking his hand once they’re ready for work. “You know I’ll always lead us to a good time. C’mon, I’ll get you your favorite drink.” Something highly saccharine and fizzling, in hues contrasting the black leather clad partygoers they pass on their way to the bar.

“It’s you,” A far too familiar voice, yet one with intent that could belong to many, hisses at them from behind. They turn in unison, backs pressed against the bar as three gazes fall onto Yuta’s first target-- the sprite named Moon whose previously docile eyes are alight in fiery flames not unlike the bright blue of the stone they stole to sell in the Market. “Give it back,” he barks.

“Hey, hey,” Ten’s voice strains as he tries to be soothing. “Funny seeing you here. It’s been some time, hasn’t it? Can we get you a drink?”

“Fuck your drinks. Give me my stone back.”

Taeyong tightens his hold on the neck of his beer bottle.

“Right...Hey I get why you’re mad, and I don’t blame you, honest. But look, we don’t have it.”

Moon’s wrath turns to Yuta, the most unprepared of them all. “But you do. I smell the fear on you.” He leans in, fist slamming on the countertop at the vampire’s left. “Give it to me.”

“I-... Do I know you…?”

Taeyong and Ten wince. Rookie mistake. And it causes the sprite to rear back in his anger. “Do. You. _Know. Me?!_ ” He shrieks, flicking his wrists at his side to bring sharp, translucent nails shooting out like knives from his hands. 

Taeyong moves first, slipping in the minimal space between the sprite and their friend, and Ten follows after, nudging shoulders, sliding his body until he’s just a touch more forward than Taeyong to protect them both. 

Momentary horror washes over Yuta as he watches Ten square up for a fight and Taeyong try to play pacifier. These two, in all their mortality, facing against someone more powerful than he, himself, is. He panics, because Ten is taking the first strike of those nails and Taeyong is trying to push Moon back, and it hits Yuta how desperate he is for the three of them to survive.

“Enough!” He roars, eyes ablaze in deep blood red as he pushes his way between the two humans and takes his stance before them. “ _I_ was the one who lied to you. Fight me, not them.”

It started as boredom and turned into… into love. Maybe not love as simmering and deep as Ten has for Taeyong but love all the same. And he can’t--he can _not_ lose them now. Not these boys whom he joined to keep safe. What’s his purpose if he can’t fulfil that now? Yuta doesn’t even dare think about how _he_ was the one who singled this target out in the first place.

And the sprite readies himself. “I’ll take you all out,” he sneers. “Enjoy playing hero to these humans one last ti--” 

Before them the sprite who was poised to take their heads off falls to pieces from a series of slashes. Yuta winces. Ten gapes. Taeyong nearly screams. The vampire turns his back quickly, letting the jacket he’s already discarding absorb the bloody impact, then swerves around to understand.

Three werewolves caught by the wrong side of the moon.

In the midst of chaos--yelling and screaming and scrambling for safety--they turn for an exit and wind up running into a room instead. It’s a dead end too many stories high to jump from.

“What are we going to do?” Ten gasps, trying his hardest not to double over for breath while sounds whirl around the hallways behind them, indistinguishable between hunter and prey. 

A split second and Yuta has them both by the wrists and tugged forcefully into the master bathroom of the suite. The door slams with his weight against it, fingers fiddling with the lock while he barks an order about finding something to shove beneath the knob. 

There’s nothing. It’s a bathroom; completely immovable. Yuta curses under his breath and flips the lights. As noise explode on the other side--shrieking and scavenging and the unfortunate squelching of someone’s body being mangled--Yuta remains with his shoulder dug into the mahogany; their last line of protection. 

Wait it out. Life or death. Just beyond the door; a party gone terribly wrong far too early into the night. And Taeyong and Ten can only cling to each other and wait.

Steadily the screaming melts into disturbing and equally unsettling silence. Yuta maintains his post at the door just a little bit longer, giving little instructions here and there until they’ve placed their phones strategically in spots that won’t shine light through the cracks. The vampire can’t smell anything other than gratuitous amounts of blood, but he doesn’t want to take any chances too soon. 

“It’s fine,” Ten breaks the silence eventually, resting his hand on Yuta’s shoulder as a means to tug him away. “We’ll stay here. We had nothing important to do anyway.”

“Besides fuck,” Taeyong laughs shakily, settling on the ledge of the bathtub like he’s not forcing himself to be calm.

Ten turns in such a way that the flash from his phone glints brightly in his eyes. A smirk spreads over his lips. Normalcy. Think, act, and breathe normalcy; that’s what his actions say. “We still can.” 

The red head slips slowly into the dip of the tub, knees bent at the edge and hands placed between his legs in such a way that would read innocence if everyone in the room didn’t know better. “Then don’t keep me waiting.”

Yuta settles on the lid of the closed toilet seat while Taeyong and Ten strip and draw (slowly, drop by drop to make as little sound as possible) the beginnings of a warm bath. The water doesn’t rise too high. Ten wants to rest between Taeyong’s thighs and suck him silly, so its more torment than anything else being warm on their bottoms--and in Ten’s case, his knees--while held at the mercy of cold air resonating around even colder tile. But when his lips latch around the head of Taeyong’s cock and he drinks him down further and further, all discomfort is chased away quickly. 

Yuta can’t take his eyes from them, though not for the perverted accusations Ten would tease him with were he not busy. Tonight was too close… Since his turning Yuta had no care about his own existence--until it meant losing either one of these boys. He’s terrified, latched onto boys too mortal for the ways this world has developed. Eyeing the scabbing scratch over Ten’s arm he realizes he can’t bear the thought of one of them leaving the other. He can’t stomach the thought of leaving them, either. These two were made for each other, and now Yuta thinks he was made for them too. Their pasts unaligned, but the Yuta now--who is pulseless and blood sustained--belongs with them. He’s found his worth in protecting them, and their bond with one another. 

This is love, and his lips part to let him say such.

Taeyong lets out a low moan, back melting against the slope of the tub. One hand claws uselessly at the wall, the other falls wrist up towards Yuta, who jerks and blinks; pulled away from his reverie. Their eyes meet and Taeyong mouths a single word: “Drink.” 

_How weird,_ Yuta muses as he sinks to his knees by Taeyong’s side. How unlike the him of before. No longer plagued with the want to uncoil the anxiety from his stomach at what happened, to say these words that have just hit him like a ton of bricks-- not now when he’s offered simple pleasure. Is this why he likes them so much? All of this easiness, this willingness to indulge, this all consuming caring. 

Never in his wildest teenage fantasies, fearfully locked in the metaphorical closet, reliant on private browsers and gay porn sites, would he imagine being entangled like this: Ten’s lips working Taeyong apart slowly, his hormones sweetening the drink that Yuta himself now indulges in. He can feel the tremors coursing through Taeyong’s body when Ten licks him in just the right way, when his fingers, slicked with mystery lotion unearthed from beneath the sink, start to tease at his entrance, when he pushes past the slight resistance and starts to work him open in time with the bobbing of his head. He can feel them all the way between his own legs.

Yuta doesn’t take too much but Lord does he indulge in the view, tongue lapping at the two tiny wounds until they’ve healed over completely. He dances his fingers over the soft skin of Taeyong’s still outstretched arm--the human far too preoccupied with Ten’s lazy assault on his senses to draw it back--and thinks about how little their time together truly has been. Maybe a month or three tops? Yuta’s lost count. A strange feeling, since he’d had a running tally of 457 days since--

Taeyong moans music into the room around them and Yuta’s thoughts disperse. The sound goes straight to his already half hard cock and he can’t help the laugh lingering on his lips.

These boys have changed him completely. 

Yuta’s destiny was always to be a liar, a cheater, and thief, only now he operates outside of the protections of the law. And he has fun doing it. 

“Do you want?” Taeyong half asks, looking to Yuta in this euphoric sort of way that tells him he also didn’t know how to end that sentence. So without words himself Yuta nuzzles Taeyong’s wrist with a nod, then stands to undress as well.

“Taeyonggie,” Ten draws back slowly to whine, saliva slick lips keeping him linked to Taeyong’s head. 

“Ten,” Taeyong hums back, pushing long fingers through soft black hair. He tugs at the strands lightly, straightening Ten’s spine so he can inch forward enough for Yuta to slot behind him. A chuckle falls from his lips--from all of them actually. This position is familiar, but their connections are newfound and stronger. There’s no robbing needed tonight; just a nice fuck between three people who were, dare they say, in some sort of feelings for one another. 

This bathtub isn’t big enough for the three of them. Yuta and Ten’s legs tangle awkwardly against the sides, leaving Taeyong no space to rest on his knees to take in both boys like last time. Of course Ten wins the battle of who he fucks. But as he sinks slowly into place, legs hugging around his best friend’s waist, he snakes a hand behind to grab Yuta firm and fully in his hand and stroke slowly. 

Yuta wraps around Taeyong’s body in kind, rolling over the buds of his nipples at the same pace. God he loves it; loves the way he could make the other thrum underneath his finger tips. Pale lips press against the smooth skin of Taeyong’s shoulder, and each time a wave of rough dominance washes over him, he punctuates his pinches and pulls with non-piercing bites until Taeyong’s back is a Pollock of blossoming bruises that Yuta can smugly call his own. 

Beneath him, Ten tries his damndest to thrust upwards. Sweat builds on his forehead and he leaves bruises in the lines of his own fingertips on Taeyong’s hips trying to give ~~the love of his life~~ him everything he can. He lives to take care of Taeyong, but the older boy isn’t letting him tonight. Dark eyes hone in on Ten’s half blissed out face instead and Taeyong captures his lips when he starts to roll and ride his body at twice the pace. They pant desperately into each other’s mouths, Taeyong relentless and Ten fully succumbing to the sweet cherry blossom sensation that was his body. His muscles pull taught and strain with how he’s still stretched to jerk Yuta off, and though the blonde tries to tap away his touch to spare him the pain, Taeyong will not let go. Not until they’re all coming in a shared cry. 

Taeyong slumps forward first, dirtying Ten’s chest in the process with a smug little giggle, then falls back onto Yuta. Ten, still riding through his orgasm in little lazy thrusts, takes his chance to trail his hands up Taeyong’s sides and keep him from squirming too much when he bends forward for a lick. In no time he’s lapping Taeyong’s chest clean of cum while the other huffs “That tickles!” between moans. 

Ten’s brow cocks, eyes challenging Taeyong’s to tell him to stop and when Yuta catches the look instead he joins in on the fun. With his teeth grazing the shell of Taeyong’s ear his hands run from each sensitive spot to the next-- his throat, to his nipples, over his thighs and then tracing faint lines over his just spent cock. 

“P-please,” Taeyong whimpers and feigns effort against their loose holds on his body. 

“Hm?” Yuta feels bold and intoxicated as he asks, “Use your words.” 

Taeyong’s body twitches before any can form their way in his throat. 

Yuta touches him again. “Well?”

“M-more…” 

“Okay~”

He’s still so sensitive when Yuta takes him fully in his hand that he shivers and shifts around, and Ten is by no means done having his fun so he fingers his ribcage with the hand that’s not holding him close. 

“G-guys..Guys…!” Taeyong yells softly and laughs. Yuta’s stroking him raw, back to nibbling at his neck. Ten’s hips haven’t let up their thrusting and he’s taking his sweet time with his lips on one of Taeyong’s nipples. “W-wait…!”

They stop in tandem. Waiting as told. It fills Taeyong with so much warmth that he wiggles his shoulders, his hips and starts to say, “Continue,” when something more--something looming deep down in his chest--takes him hostage instead.

He turns his head quickly and coughs once. Twice. Again and again, into the arm pressed to his lips. He can’t stop coughing. Taeyong’s body curls slightly, shivers suddenly, with each heavy hack of his lungs and Ten’s eyes go wide as he watches thick, dark red paint over his skin and splatter onto the tile. 

“T-Taeyong…” He presses one hand to his shoulder, the other reaching for the water in hopes that a warm stream might help his chilling skin. He’s already, finally, pulled out. “Taeyong, what’s…”

“’M okay,” Taeyong gasps, coughing now into hands brought before his face as if his palms can hold back the blood his elbow couldn’t. He doesn’t succeed.

Ten shrieks--or at least he does until Yuta’s hand clasps over his lips to hush him, glowing eyes glancing over his shoulder to ensure they were still truly safe. He’s worried about Taeyong, too, of course, but now he can’t shake the added worry that Ten might collapse on the spot. 

The human doesn’t stay still for long. His hand wrenches himself free from Yuta. Fortunately, he doesn’t scream again, but the messy way he grabs at and gathers Taeyong into his arms spills blood over both of their bodies. “What happened? Wh-... You… When was your last replacement?”

Taeyong winces, Ten’s brows furrow. “Don’t… Why didn’t you say anything? We could’ve skipped the last two and gotten you more!”

“Too...much…” The other managed. “Tired of spending too much.” 

Yuta looks at Ten for answers who just hunkers down with Taeyong further into the cooling water of the tub. “The candy…” Yuta nearly misses his voice between Taeyong’s coughing fits. “His blood sugar. Keeps it high enough...among other things.” 

“So can’t we get more?” Yuta’s already out of the tub and pulling on pants. “If it’s just candy it should be easy right?” 

Ten shakes his head. Taeyong doesn’t reply; but he is trying to suppress the whirlwind raging through him. 

“Our supplier is too far from here. Regular candy will only get him so far. It's...It's…” his voice breaks and he shakes Taeyong once with the intent to be rough that melts into no more than a meager tap. “Why didn't you say anything...I could help you if you just said something. Stupid...stupid…” He starts muttering a mix of Korean, English, and Thai, rocking with a still shaking Taeyong in his grasp.

Then he rises with a jolt. “You,” he looks to Yuta.

“...Me?”

“You can help him, right? Y-you're a vampire after all. You can save him.” 

“I can do no such thing.”

“Why? Isn’t it part of what things like you do?”

“It’s not something _I_ do!” Yuta bites back. “I can’t. I just...I can’t turn him. He’ll die if I do.”

Taeyong hasn’t been able to find his own footing to follow Ten as he stood, so instead he wraps his arms around the younger’s thigh and hold tight. He’s trying so hard not to cough any more and the restraint makes his body quake harder. 

Ten runs his hand through his hair, coos something under his breath trying to comfort him, before his attention turns fully back to Yuta. “He’ll die if you don’t. Yuta,” His voice is dagger sharp and makes the vampire wince. But what’s worse, when he looks into Ten’s eyes, he can see how close he is to shattering himself. His brows pinch, eyes pleading in place of his trembling lips. “Yuta,” he tries again. “Please… I’m begging you. I’ll do anything just… just save my best friend. If we mean anything to you. If _he_ means anything to you. Please save him.”

“I…” Yuta stammers. Dark eyes try to trail to Taeyong still naked and vulnerable in the bathtub, but he can’t. He can’t look at him. Not like this. So weak and desperate, though he tries with all his might to hold onto his life-- no matter how much blood drops, dyes, and dilutes the water beneath his knees. If he means anything to you. Taeyong means so much to him. _If we mean anything to you._ Yuta had been so close to confessing just that.

He finally relents. “Okay… Okay. But I need somewhere we can stay for a few days. You need to take us there. Now.”

Ten snaps, crying and smiling in one go. He pulls Taeyong into his arms and onto his own feet. “I know just the place. I got us. I _swear_ I do.”

x

"A church? You brought us to a church? I can't enter a place of God--"

"There is no God here," Ten cries, close to clawing his tear red eyes out. He’s already climbed out of the car and is rushing them towards the entrance. "God is dead, and if you don't do something...Taeyong will be too." The look he shoots Ten is fire blazing from his eyes though he braces himself to cross the threshold into the dilapidated space.

For an instant, something crawls over Yuta like rusted nails being hammered and pulled through his skin. He grits his teeth tightens his grip, fighting his rejection from the church step by step until the space relents and permits him to find a place among the patches of yellow and pink flowers somehow surviving in the corner, refreshed by the dripping of water droplets falling from large cracks in the roof. 

It’s not Taeyong he sees when he pulls him into his lap and looks down. Not now. Thick eyebrows, plump lips, and blonde hair that inevitably inspired Yuta’s own, the taller male blinked blankly up to Yuta and smiled through the pool of blood bubbling at his lips. 

“It’s okay,” Sicheng encouraged with a featherlight touch to Yuta’s cheek. “I trust you.”

 _I don’t,_ Yuta thinks desperately now when Taeyong comes back into vision. He couldn’t save him then; his own best friend and boyfriend. In the nights they had believed that _Nakamoto Corporation _money bought them protection, tucked away in the back rooms of one of too many condominiums owned, the world’s water and air purification at their fingertips thanks to their fathers. The night monsters tore them asunder because human strongholds had fallen apart without proper resources. Yuta thought they’d both make it when he watched the second vampire drain Sicheng nearly dry. He thought, at the very least, as everything else fell from their bloody fingers. _At least we can remain together.___

__But when he woke alone that next night, taken and turned, he’d discovered Sicheng just...hadn’t. And he laid there, a mess of mixed blood, body caught between survival and change. Yuta yelled, and he gathered his love into his arms, and he begged to every God and Goddess above to help before deciding, ‘I can try…’_ _

__In his last breath Sicheng encouraged the bite, ran his red dyed fingers through Yuta’s pretty blonde hair, but when it came time he couldn’t drink. No vampire blood could help him and Yuta, crying tears redder than what stained his lips, could only watch as he slipped away._ _

__“Yuta!”_ _

__Oh. He’s crying now, too, looking at Taeyong who is nothing like Sicheng. Oh. He has to do this for Ten. He has to do this for Taeyong._ _

__Ten has to do this for Taeyong, too. Ten, whose hopes of helping his best friend had fallen apart faster than the momentary disaster that cursed Taeyong’s lungs in the first place, after he had taken the job Ten was too chicken to do. Once again he was powerless, leaving Taeyong in someone else’s care, praying that maybe...somehow… something could change from the last time._ _

__Yuta prays, too, before the bite._ _

__Cries melt into whimpers. Being bitten many nights before Taeyong had wanted familiarity; recounts of the fun they'd had at the touch of each other's fingertips and the press of each other's lips. He hopes his last memories aren't of blinding pain, the feeling of his life leaving him at the pacing of Yuta's gulps. He thinks-- suddenly only of darkness, watching his best friend’s teary face fade away._ _

__When it's all said and done, Yuta holds Taeyong closer than he's allowed to in the presence of Ten._ _


	2. They don't know nothing about recovery

**_They don’t know nothing about recovery_ **

x

_Do you have to keep holding him like that?_ Ten’s nose twitches at the thought and the backs of his eyes prick with his frustration. He can’t ask such things; not when Yuta has so kindly turned his best friend into a vampire in order to save his life. _How twisted,_ Ten thinks. _Becoming the undead in order to live._

“Does it take long…?” He asks instead, eyes following the pictures his index finger is trailing through the dust on the floor. 

Yuta, whose gaze has yet to leave the unconscious boy grasped tight in his arms, finally flits his attention to Ten. “I… don’t know.” 

It takes Ten aback and he nearly pounces on Yuta like a cat gone mad until he reads the look on his face-- the sorrow and pain and _fear_ that’s suddenly become so palpable Ten can’t help but grimace. “Oh…”

“Yeah…” Yuta looks away again and brushes Taeyong’s soft, sweat slick bangs from his forehead. “Sorry. But hopefully not much longer. Maybe one more morning’s time at most.” _If he makes it._ Yuta keeps that to himself.

So Ten waits the morning, watching the two fold almost bonelessly around each other in their state of...death. He could sleep too. He knows this place is safe enough to allow all three of them to rest. But he can’t. And the longer he looks at Taeyong’s unmoving, paled state the more he jumps to all the worst and wrong conclusions. He shifts to his knees, bent over like a cat ready to play, and touches Taeyong as gently as if he were made of glass. Yuta’s blood lingers in dried patches on Taeyong’s lips and chin. There’s no beat beneath his chest or pulse at his wrist. Where old cuts and scars used to be, where new bruises had formed, where Taeyong once sported his star sign in ink injected into his skin, is all gone; drained away with the blood in his body as magic took its place.

And he’s so cold. 

Taeyong, who used to wrap around Ten like a personal blanket from their youth until now, is so cold. 

Ten tries to choke back another sob, but when it breaks through he cries all the way ‘til nighttime. 

The instant the sun vanishes Yuta stirs. The blonde is first to wake, but his shuffling off of and around Taeyong quickly brings Ten up. “How is he?”

“He, uhm…” Yuta hardly made it halfway through his check over Taeyong’s “sleeping” state to be able to give a proper answer. But he doesn’t look or feel or sound like Sicheng so… well, Yuta doesn’t want to find hope in the wrong places. Not yet.

But then a groan leaves Taeyong’s lips and he shifts slightly on his own. They both move but Ten is a little quicker, tugging Taeyong to his chest with renewed vigor and a fresh batch of tears streaming down his cheeks. “Taeyong!” He exclaims. “You’re okay. You’re okay? Oh my God please…” 

He pulls back, lips split into a wide smile despie how Taeyong looks disoriented and a little blank. He blinks and his head tilts. Then he sniffs. A small twitch of his nose but so suddenly he’s rearing back with a mouth full of sharpened and elongated fangs. 

“Yah!” Yuta lunges forward. His hand takes the damage of the bite, the other arm securing firmly around Taeyong’s waist. The new vampire struggles half a second, but when he realizes that blood is flowing freely into his mouth he relents and latches on, sucking hurriedly like he’s been starved for days. 

“S-sorry…” Yuta stammers, shifting his hand so it’s easier for Taeyong to feed. “Forgot about this part… this ravenous hunger, newly turned fledge stage wasn’t one I was super conscious for at the time.” And had he been, maybe Sicheng would’ve been more primed to survive a turning, not left like a fed on ragdoll. 

Taeyong settles eventually. He lets Yuta’s hand go reluctantly and laps at the open wounds to get his final fill until he’s curled up again like a kitten on Yuta’s chest. A baby monster who could be cute... 

Ten hasn’t stopped shaking. 

Maybe two more nights pass like this before Taeyong comes to again, less monster and more... Taeyong. The haze in his eyes has vanished and when the sun sets he no longer stares Ten down like prey unattained until Yuta lets him fasten to his wrist or neck. But he doesn’t give him a look of recognition either. 

“What happened?” Taeyong asks softly to Ten and Yuta both. And when he receives his answer he moves on to, “Who am I?”

Ten’s eyes blow wide and fix fast onto Yuta. “What is this?” He hisses under his breath as if Taeyong isn’t sitting right before them and can’t hear everything, down to the beat of Ten’s heart. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I _saved_ him?” Yuta counters. 

“I don’t know if this fucking counts as _saving_ him.”

As their bickering continues Taeyong grows more confused. “Uh...guys? Guys!”

Their attention snaps back to Taeyong between them. Without a heartbeat to quicken Taeyong’s anxiousness manifest itself in old and new ticks like chewing on his lips and wringing his hands together. “Sorry...I just…uhm…”

“What do you remember?” Ten offers after a moment of trying and failing to wipe his distress from his face.

“I really can’t remember much of anything.”

Taeyong outlines overviews of the places they’ve lived. He recounts unstable income and makeshift homes. He knows of the war and all the many creatures that run rampant because of it. But he has nothing that relates to either of the other two, or even really himself for that matter. 

So Ten pieces the thoughts together slowly, trying to weave memories for them both in an order that make the most sense (and, selfishlessly, will get Ten what he wants). “You’re Lee Taeyong. 28 years old. We grew up together. Since we were four and five in this church. And for as long as you’ve known me you’ve called me Ten because you couldn’t pronounce my full name. Does any of it ring a bell?”

Taeyong looks around the dilapidated church from the shattered stained glass windows to the broken pews. Then he turns to Ten, a face he’s seen every day for 23 years and some change, and he remembers none of it. His head shakes slowly from side to side. “Nothing,” he says weakly. “I mean, it all sounds fine. But I don’t remember it myself.”

Ten’s lips part, words crawling up from his tight throat slow enough that Yuta has time to cut him off. “We’ll get there. We spend a lot of time together so there’s no rush. Right Ten?”

Ten chokes back on his words and shoots Yuta a sharp glare but eventually nods. “Right…”

“Sorry, Ten… And you are?” Taeyong asks Yuta.

“Nakamoto Yuta. I’m...the reason why you’re like this right now. You were sick so I turned you.” He shifts uncomfortably, thinking about the consent that was had and now, potentially, lost. 

Taeyong must sense that because he says, “It’s okay. I believe you both. If you say I wanted this then...I must have wanted this.” He glances down to his hands before muttering, “even if it feels a little strange now.” 

“I guess I owe you both my thanks,” he continues. “For saving my life, I mean. Please… keep sharing any details about me and us and all of this… I’ll work hard to remember.” 

Ten both softens and perks up at that. Taeyong has always rooted his worth in his determination and self-improvement, in his want to accomplish everything for himself and others. He’s pleased that that isn’t gone as well. It lets him believe that Taeyong is still inherently Taeyong. “I know you will,” he says with a soft smile, inching as close as he can--the closest he’s been able to since Taeyong awoke--and extending a hand to rest of Taeyong’s upper arm. “You always work hard.” 

And Taeyong smiles because Ten’s touch is warm and his smile comforting. At least he knows now one of the reasons why they’ve been so inseparable. He extends a hand to Yuta too, because if he and Ten are so close, and Yuta is here, then doesn’t he belong on that same level as well? Yuta takes it despite the wide-eyed stare Ten sends behind Taeyong’s back. Then, when he realizes Ten’s own hand is empty where Taeyong’s fingers will usually link, he slots his own there instead.

x

Ten begins with the optimism that being in the familiarity of their childhood “home” might quicken Taeyong’s recovery. He takes Taeyong by the wrist and pulls him from place to place, accompanying with a story at each stop.

“Here’s the old tree the nuns used to yell at us for climbing. We never listened until I fell from the _very_ top branches and cracked my head open,” Ten glances over slyly, waiting for Taeyong to catch the lie-- Ten never made it to the top, but Taeyong, himself, had; and he never let the younger live it down.

But instead Taeyong smiles widely and nods. “Really? That’s impressive-- well, maybe not the injury…”

“It’s okay. Want to see the scar?” Ten sucks on his bottom lip, slowly shaking away the impending frustration from his gaze while Taeyong combs through his hair and marvels at the injury.. _Fuck,_ Ten thinks. _Okay, then onto the next one._

He drags him all around the grounds, from the ashes of their old bedroom to the lake where they first kissed, and each time Taeyong’s eyes glisten as he nods like a child absorbing information like a sponge. Ten reads the way he applies each told tale like an accessory on a bare body, dressing himself up in things that feel right yet aren’t fully him. But he doesn’t remember it himself. 

Ten tries again the next night, after plotting idea after idea down in the dust while his vampires slept. He starts with questions, watching Taeyong’s face screw in effort and slack in distress. He shifts back to stories but finds just as little success as the last time. He asks, “Taeyong, what do you remember?” And though the older can retell everything he’s just learned he can’t place himself into any of it. 

It’s finally, when Taeyong doesn’t key into his fidgeting and offer his hand for support, that Ten tosses in the towel and storms off in a huff. 

“What did I do…?” Taeyong’s voice strains, dark eyes seeking out Yuta who, until now, has stayed as far away from them as he could allow himself. 

“Nothing,” Yuta’s voice is a whisper, hands rubbing warmth over Taeyong’s perpetually cold skin-- trying to comfort him, trying to keep him from facing the mess crying would cause.

Still, droplets of red roll over Taeyong’s sullen cheeks when he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m really trying,” he says desperately. “I’m _really_ trying.”

“I know. We know. Ten knows.” He licks over his lips in a second of thought, eyes following the raven haired male’s footsteps until he’s out of sight (but not sound) before offering his wrist to Taeyong. “Here. Just take a little before I go after him. He probably needs to cool off, anyway.” 

Yuta feels all the ways Taeyong shifts and shivers, unable to sit still regardless of his best intentions while Yuta leaves. He’s plagued, Yuta senses. He might not _remember_ explicitly but he knows that Ten being _there_ and Taeyong _here_ and not with him is a discomfort. That must mean something right? 

“I’m not going to talk to you now,” Ten snips towards Yuta. 

So the blonde tries the next time, when Ten frustrates himself to the point of leaving with Taeyong stuck behind him in tears. Again.

“Don’t you get it?” Ten hisses over his shoulder. “I _don’t_ want to talk to you.”

“Look… I know it’s hard for you. Probably hardest on you but you can’t keep storming off from him like this. You’re pushing him away.”

“He’s not _coming back_ to me,” Ten corrects. 

“He’s trying. Ten he’s trying so hard for you.”

“It’s not enough.”

Yuta cocks a brow at that. Lips pursing, he doesn’t agree. “I don’t understand why it isn’t. If he didn’t love you he wouldn’t care. He probably wouldn’t even stay with us but he’s trying for you because he knows you love him.”

Ten stiffens at that word, digging dull nails into the flesh of his palm. “...He doesn’t know that he loves me though,” he bites out eventually.

“He’ll get there.” Despite his uncertainty, Yuta dares to reach out and tug Ten’s attention to him by his sleeve; like he’s seen Taeyong do time after time during their small scuffles. “Give him time. This sucks but it’s our new normal for now. Deal with it or watch him walk away.”

Chapped lips part to speak but Ten can only get out a choked cry instead. His head falls, eyes squeezing shut. “I don’t want that….”

“I know,” Yuta pulls Ten closer to him until he can run a hand through jet black hair-- another Taeyong move. Back in the church he hears a similarly shaking cry and lets out a wry laugh to himself. “Even like this you’re two of a kind, you know that right, Ten?” 

The other grumbles under his breath and sniffs while shaking his head, but to Yuta’s surprise he doesn’t pull away. In fact, he buries himself closer. It makes the vampire smile--despite the snot he is sure is starting to cover his shirt. 

Taeyong is still seated patiently when they return, though his face is smudged to hell with blood haphazardly wiped away. He tries again with the palm of his hand and if neither knew better he could come across as a bonafide murderer. But Taeyong’s too soft to do that, even without his memories. 

He looks up to Ten and whispers a tight, “I’m sorry,”

The younger all but flops on top of Taeyong and gathers him into his arms. “No no,” he interjects quickly. “ _I’m_ sorry. I need to start being more fair to you. I’ll be better.” 

And he tries so hard to do so. And he hopes… Something will come. Something has to come so long as they keep trying.

But, despite Yuta’s constant encouragement, Ten’s optimism doesn’t last. They’re very overdue to hit the road again and Taeyong’s progress is nil. He uses work as his excuse but...each night Taeyong doesn’t remember him is another night that Ten’s heart breaks. Before he shatters completely, he wants Taeyong to look at him with _something._ Even if only a fraction of the fondness he once had for him... 

It’s a last resort. Not a muscle moves as Ten sets to work, recreating Taeyong’s long lost tattoo as best he can from memory; large stars here and there, tiny dots in between. There’s pain etched all over his features, brows pinched and eyes downward, as Ten tries to pull Taeyong’s memories back with the point of his Sharpie. “Anything…?” He whispers desperately. “Anything at all?” 

It takes a lot for Taeyong to match those pleading eyes. And when he does he can only shake his head.

“No? Really?”

“No…”

“Not forging our IDs at fifteen and running to the nearest tattoo parlor from your restaurant job?” Taeyong looks away. “Not tracing over them dumbly whenever we got drunk by ourselves?” Taeyong’s shoulders cave forward. “Not--”

“Ten,” Yuta cuts in a quietly firm tone. “Look at him...He just doesn’t have it.”

“But I’m trying…” Taeyong adds weakly before burying his face into his palms. “I want to. I really want to.” Red seeps through his fingers and onto the pale ground before his knees until Yuta gathers him against his chest and pulls out a tattered and stained handkerchief. And when Taeyong finally unfolds against him he dabs away the blood under his eyes.

“We know… _Ten_ knows,” he assures. “Right, Ten?”

It’s become a mantra of sorts between them: when Ten’s feelings become too much for his mind to bear and Yuta needs to calm him down in an instant. Overall, the raven haired human is grateful because it keeps him included as part of Taeyong’s healing, but right now he _hates _that word on Yuta’s tongue, in his super soft tone surrounded by a caressing touch. He’s tired of feeling the bad guy to Yuta’s nurturing. He just wants something to change.__

__It’s been days of so much nothing._ _

__His shoulders seize up and were he a being with any sort of magic, fire would surely be shooting from his eyes. But Yuta is looking at him with a gaze to match. Locked in combat, the blonde shakes his head and holds Taeyong tighter, slipping a palm over his ear, symbolically though with a want for function._ _

__“Stop it,” He whispers harshly. “Enough is enough. Stop hurting him.”_ _

__“I’m not doing anything, I just--”_ _

__“No, Ten. No more. Look at Taeyong, look at what you’ve done to him,” He leaves out the ‘again’ but Ten hears it loud and clear. Yuta presses on. “Get over yourself or get over him. You can’t keep doing this.”_ _

__Yuta’s words slice him open like a knife. He recoils, seething, rearing for battle until Yuta shifts. He’s starting to hide Taeyong from Ten, braced for an onslaught. He’s _protecting_ Taeyong in the way Ten has always dedicated himself to do. He’s protecting Taeyong _from _Ten.___ _

_____‘Deal with it or watch him walk away.’_ _ _ _ _

____He freezes in his tracks._ _ _ _

____Slowly, he exhales through his nose and his voice strains a noise of apology. Slowly, once Yuta has relaxed and his gaze grants Ten permission, his hand reaches out to tap lightly on Taeyong’s knee until he shifts from Yuta and into Ten’s own outstretched arms. It doesn’t feel right, even as Taeyong wraps around him. Though he’s trying, it’s just not _right._ And it won’t be until Taeyong loses the stiff apprehension that floods his muscles; when he’s no longer just going through the motions and can actually remembers that he cares… When he actually forgives Ten for all the hurt he’s caused. _ _ _ _

____And then when he learns how to love Ten again._ _ _ _

____But Ten works hard to not let it shake him this time. He licks over his lips and breathes by forcing air from his lungs in measured exhales._ _ _ _

____After the sun overtakes both vampires and leaves Ten in a heap of unmoving, unbreathing bodies, he takes the chance to cry his own, salt water tears. “I want you back,” He runs his hand through Taeyong’s ever-fading red hair. “The you of the past…”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

x

They set out the night after next. Taeyong looks sullen in his seat at first but quickly perks up, pressing himself against the window to peer out at the demolished cities as they pass. His eyes reflect the light of the neon signs that welcome no one. When he doesn’t seem to be paying much mind to Ten, the youngest leans over to turn the volume up-- to lose himself in the familiarity of Billy Idol’s rough voice to the tune of “White Wedding.” But then Yuta’s voice joins him, words picked up from repetition that carry themselves to Ten’s ear similarly to how Taeyong’s used to. It causes him to pause. Then it brings a smile to his lips.

Behind him Yuta smiles too, and for the first time in weeks the air around them feels far less...desperate.

Closer to their destination Ten starts to prep Taeyong-- lets him know about their ideal targets, ways they use to court them to bed, what they _do_ in bed, how and what they take at the end. 

“Oh,” is all Taeyong says back.

Ten quirks a brow. “Oh? Is...is that alright?”

“Yeah, fine. I trust you,” Taeyong nods but he still doesn’t seem so sure. And yet, when they slip inside and lock onto their partners for the night--Taeyong and Ten tag teaming one, Yuta on his own with another--it all slips right into place.

Taeyong’s head falls back with a loud moan. His face is awash with ecstasy that seems second nature to him, and his hips course their way up and down in a rhythm that speaks to his years of experience. His mind may not remember, but his body does. 

When it comes to the end, and he kisses their partner with drugs on his tongue, his hands are already slipping into the inside pockets of the other’s jacket. He extracts diamond pendants and silver chains, and one swirling crystal of lavender and gold, naturally bright eyes glistening at the sight. “Is this good?” He asks, turning to Ten who’s busy fishing for cash from their victim’s pants.

“Hm?” Ten glances up. “Taeyong! That’s great!” Oops. His voice is a little louder than necessary. Taeyong shushes him, a long finger pressed before giggling lips. Finally _something_ that’s gone right, that’s been done well. It’s progress. Maybe not the right progress, but Ten’s smiling so widely at him that he feels warm and satiated. That’s more than enough for him.

Taeyong hangs happily from Ten’s shoulders when they regroup, grinning when he glances up to Yuta. _I did well,_ the look says. 

Yuta smiles and nods. _I’m sure you did_

“People seem to like me a lot.” Taeyong adds with far too much wide eyed innocent bewilderment that makes the other two chuckle. “Do they know they look like hyenas when they stalk around us like that?”

“Everyone’s following you for your sex appeal,” Yuta teases. It prompts Taeyong to smirk. Ten continues where the blonde left off, hugging Taeyong even tighter, even daring to nuzzle his neck (as if the action could subdue some of the jealousy he’ll likely never not feel). “It’s good, keep it up.”

_Keep it up._

Weeks wear on and though Taeyong’s personal progress is sluggish their work is fruitful, though all-consuming. But he keeps it up. Sunset to sunrise, they start to see strangers more often than each other and even the times they do meet it’s all business. Taeyong starts to long for the time they shared in the church, despite the stress. He starts to long for Ten and lament the daylight hours that render him useless. 

The gaps between when they meet are so long that the red head can’t help but worry. Is he taking care of himself? Is he resting? Does he feel alone? At the very least when he wakes up to see Ten busy with a sandwich he feels grateful that he’s eating. And when their eyes meet in the ‘mornings’ Taeyong always offers a small smile.

He does his best to make sure Ten doesn’t worry about him, too.

Taeyong thinks nothing of the flushed out feeling in his muscles, attributing it to soupyness he’s used to post-fuck. A pink tongue swipes over pale lips. The woman beneath him is knocked out cold, orange hair strewn around her freckled face and red lipstick smudged everywhere (that’s Taeyong’s doing). She doesn’t have much more than a red diamond ring and a pair of ruby earrings--he’s starting to note the color theme--that he’s already taken for his own, so he doesn’t bother with much more than pulling the blankets up around her and placing her clothes within reach. 

_It’s early for us,_ he muses, stepping out of the room with his shirt half way on his body in time for a man to stumble drunkenly into him. He grunts, despite taking Taeyong down against the wall behind him, and pulls his hands from his gushing, bloody nose only to stabilize himself, push Taeyong down, and keep moving. Taeyong shutters, looking at the new stains all over his pink clothes. “What the hell man,” he gripes, wiping the red marks further into the fabric. This sticky, heavy, disgusting fluid from a stranger that...smells so good…whose heartbeat is...so slow, right now...so easy to catch.

Taeyong starts to tremble, bringing his hand to his face. His fangs are elongating already, eyes shifting focus until they’re seeing red and only red; until the scent floods the air and he’s tasting it on his tongue. 

Lightning fast reflexes carried Taeyong to the man’s side and then back into the hotel room, out of sight....nearly. The woman from before shrieks when she wakes up, scrambling to cover herself in her clothes without putting them on, running in wild circles.

Cornered in the closet so he could feast is where they find him soon after-- Yuta scrambling, panicked, to pull them apart while Ten subdues their one witness and misdirects any others. 

“Hey...Hey!” Yuta hisses, prying Taeyong’s sharp nails from the now dead man’s skin. The young vampire hisses and snaps at him in response, trying to hide whatever remains he can to no avail. Yuta’s seen it all, and he’s terrified and frustrated all at once. A hand lures Taeyong from the body and towards him, the blonde wincing when Taeyong’s teeth snap into him instead, and takes the opportunity to finally wrench the man away-- out of the closet, out of sight, and out of mind...eventually. 

The cry Taeyong lets out is so pained it brings even Ten to pause and look back. 

“Stop!” Yuta grunts. They haven’t stopped wrestling with one another until he has Taeyong pinned completely. “Snap out of it!” 

Taeyong struggles further and Yuta doesn’t want to do more, even says so explicitly, but until Taeyong will come back in some capacity he has no choice. Taeyong’s head hits the ground hard from Yuta’s shaking. Temporarily stunned, Yuta takes his chance to transfer Taeyong’s wrist into one of his hands, grips where he’s straddling the other’s waist tight with his thighs. His teeth rip open his own wrist, focusing hard on how the droplets fall to Taeyong’s lips until they slowly bring a consciousness back into his eyes.

The expression on Taeyong’s face shifts from rabid to horrified, muscles tensing in panic. _What happened?_ But does he want to ask? Does he want that answer? Just one look at Yuta tells him “no.” 

So they don’t exchange any words other than a mutual “I’m sorry…” to one another after Yuta’s returned to his feet and helped Taeyong up. The younger is covered in blood from his lips to his knees but he doesn’t want to look at it. He can’t process it...this whole....it’s so much. It’s too much. 

“Here,” Yuta starts, warmer now after clearing his throat, reaching to slide open the closet door. “I’ve got you.” 

And he does, truly. He keeps Taeyong blocked from view, hiding all visible shame from Ten as they make their way to the bathroom. His clothes are ruined, so Yuta asks Ten to help him collect new ones from the car while Taeyong bathes--or rather, scrubs violently at the shame staining his skin.

“I’ve got this. I want to give them to him,” Ten insists, hugging Taeyong’s spare clothes tightly to his chest once he has returned.

“I...What if he hasn’t fully recovered, Ten? I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“He won’t hurt me, it’s _me._ ”

_That didn’t stop him before,_ Yuta can’t help but think but there’s no way Ten is giving in now. Honestly, it was a miracle Yuta was even able to go into that closet on his own. Maybe he should take the small victories. “Fine,” he inevitably relents. “But I’m going to be right behind you.”

They find the bathroom empty when they return. Even the bedroom seems hardly touched from the disarray they’d left it in only so many moments ago.

“Where…?” Ten shoots Yuta a panicked look. “Where is he? Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, I was with you.”

“I _know_ you don’t know,” Ten snips back. He just doesn’t know how accusing his tone becomes when he’s scared. “Where can he be? You can sense him right? Where is he!”

“Stop yelling at me,” Yuta gapes, elbowing Ten slightly more than playfully. “I’m trying-... I’ll try. Just give me a second.”

“One,” Ten counts. Yuta shoots him an unamused glare.

After a few seconds time the blonde speaks again. “Okay, I think he’s--”

“Balcony,” Ten cuts him off, hurrying to the room next door and out the sliding glass window to where Taeyong’s decided to perch himself, just far away enough from the damage and debris, but close enough to be spotted. Yuta huffs at Ten’s impulsion but follows quickly afterward.

Ten carefully widens the opening to step outside, knowing full well Taeyong can sense his heartbeat, smell his humanity, hear his footsteps, and all of that. But the other doesn’t move yet. His body is arched slightly, weight carried on his elbows against the metal banister, with his body covered in a white plush robe he must have found somewhere between the two rooms. Just before him smoke plumes in thin, gray whisps. Ten tilts his head.

“What’s that?” He asks, resting his hip near enough to Taeyong’s body to make him happy yet far enough to keep their space. Taeyong shoots him a look that easily reads _you’re not scared of me?_ And Ten, in lieu of answering outright, just presses on. “Where did you get that?”

Taeyong brings the cigarette to his lips again for a long draw. “The woman left it behind,” he answers coolly, as if there aren’t storms raging deep in him that even Ten can sense, that he’s hoping the nicotine will lay to rest.

“And since when do you smoke?”

“Did I not before?”

“No, never.”

“Huh…” Taeyong pauses to tap the ashes off the end. “Then maybe I’ve just always wanted to.” 

Yuta steps into the doorway and leans against the wall in time to catch Ten’s lips draw into a line. Weirdly, they fold their arms together in tandem, but with much more different meanings. Yuta is on guard, worried for all their sakes something will trigger Taeyong again, while Ten wonders if maybe the person he’s known inside and out for his entire life might not have been who he’s thought. It brings him pause and washes him with fear. Were these lies…? Were they-- 

Yuta clears his throat. 

_Oh,_ Ten blinks, looking up and then over to the other vampire. Taeyong shifts to look back too, but whatever the other two are sharing in their gaze he can’t quite pick up. Ten gets it though and nods, reaching for something in his back pocket.

“Give me that,” He says to Taeyong.

“What?”

“The cigarette.”

Taeyong cocks a brow as Ten smiles but puts the end out on against the metal and places it into Ten’s palm. In return, Ten pops an unwrapped cherry flavored lollipop between Taeyong’s lips. His grin widens. 

“There we go,” he hums, throwing the cigarette over the ledge. “That’s better.” 

Taeyong slides the sweet between his cheeks and swirls over it with his tongue. “I…”

“It’s alright,” Yuta speaks this time, shrugging a shoulder when he joins closer to the other two. _The worst is over,_ he wants to say. _We’ve made it. We’ll keep making it. _But instead he says, “Right, Ten?”__

__You’re still you, what Ten wants to add on. _No matter what you’re still Taeyong. My Taeyong._ He glances between the two vampires and nods, smiling even still. “Right, Yuta.”_ _

__Day by Day, Taeyong may not become more like the man Ten and Yuta miss, but he is someone that fits into the trio nicely. In fact, the “fresh eyes” help improve their picks, the way they bed their targets, and as a result the value of their spoils--despite Ten’s aversion to change. But Taeyong now, like Taeyong then, loves sparkling and shiny things and seeing him adorned in all their stolen necklaces and rings sends Ten’s heart soaring higher than expected._ _

__This Taeyong without Taeyong’s old reservations… Ten’s falling fast in love with him, too._ _

__He’s more playful now--whether it’s with sharper, teasing nips at his neck or the wide eyed, innocent look he shoots to them while treating his blood packs like a juice box. He’s unburdened by impending illness, no longer shackled like Ten to the trials of their past, and he bleeds into the lightness of his laughs and the airyness of his movements._ _

__Ten starts reasoning that this might be better, even grows a little jealous that he, too, can’t let go of the same things without an aid as cruel as amnesia._ _

__But it’s those moments where Yuta is by his side, burdened with his own past alongside their time shared together, with welcoming eyes and a silent smile that reminds Ten he’s not as on his own as his worst days might have him think. He’s taking care of them both as best he can-- Ten and his emotions, Taeyong and his newly turned state._ _

__Taeyong lets out a little whine, groaning out his hunger while rolling around the bed they’ve claimed as their own that night. It’s playful but Yuta’s brows furrow, a touch distraught. There aren’t many humans at these things, and when there are, they’re never a main target. There isn’t even a hospital around within a 15 mile radius to seek out bloodpacks and consuming another vampire’s blood is only half satiating at best. Neither of them have had the chance or time to properly feed and the last time that happened--_ _

__“You know you can drink from me.” Ten offers like he has every week since The Incident, looking to Taeyong with eyes softer than his tone._ _

__Taeyong shifts. “I...know but…” He’s scared. What if he loses himself for a second too long ~~again~~? What if he takes too much? But there’s a nudge at his back from Yuta’s elbow and when their eyes meet he encourages Taeyong with a silent nod._ _

__It’s now or nothing, and Yuta doesn’t want to take the risks of Taeyong getting any hungrier. Ten is risky, sure, but not drinking? That’s riskier._ _

__“Just remember what I showed you,” He says with a soft smile and another supportive touch. “We’ll be fine. I’m here to help.”_ _

__Ten feels the tension that radiates off of Taeyong’s body when he moves over to settle in his lap. He may not be a vampire--he may not have that sixth sense that allows him to hear heartbeats and read shifts in the bloodstream, or this powerful master/sire link that Yuta and Taeyong now seem to share--but he knows Taeyong. He’s always known Taeyong, even when Taeyong doesn’t know himself. So he feels his stress, but he also knows all the right places to touch in order to will it away. Slender fingers tap at the nape of his neck and just behind his ear, pale lips pulling into a smile. “I trust you,” Ten whispers. “Trust me trusting you.”_ _

__Taeyong meets that look with an awkward, turtle quirk at the corners of his own mouth. “Okay.” Step one, Taeyong links their fingers together and squeezes their hands once. Yuta taught him it’s to root himself to his partner, keep notes on how they’re doing. Then he cups his friend’s sharp jaw, opposite of the spot he started nuzzling to find exactly where to bite. “Are you ready?”_ _

__“I’m ready,” Ten breaths back. He’s not nervous at all and he taps at Taeyong’s neck to tell him so._ _

__Opposite him, Taeyong is practically trembling. But Ten smells so good that he can’t help but lick over his lips. And step two is receiving consent which he’s already done. So, slowly, he drags his tongue over the side of Ten’s neck then nips just beneath his jaw. “Ready,” he repeats, fangs elongating then piercing Ten’s skin._ _

__The human shivers in that eyes rolling back, lips parted to whisper a moan way. His hands grip Taeyong tighter. They’ve fucked before. They’ve fucked a lot before Taeyong lost his memories and a few times after the fact. They’ve explored every inch of each other’s bodies and somehow this hits Ten harder. Because he knows only he can give this to Taeyong, can provide him with sweet sustenance that already has him whimpering and readjusting to drink just a touch more. Because this is helping Taeyong more than any amount of sex probably ever could._ _

__And Ten, himself, feels _fantastic._ Now he gets why Taeyong always offered to feed Yuta because “ _Fuck, _” it’s good. Adrenaline courses through him, triggering a fight or flight response that he doesn’t need to worry about because it’s Taeyong. Ten won’t be hurt.___ _

____When he finally pulls away Ten can see that Taeyong’s eyes are just as glazed over as his own must be and he watches as the other licks his lips slowly to savour every drop._ _ _ _

____“Don’t forget to close the wound,” Yuta adds softly, prompting Taeyong to do just that._ _ _ _

____His little kitten licks cause Ten to giggle and squirm a touch in his seat. His hands start to run through his black roots and red ends. He holds Taeyong in a way that could tell the world he never wants to let go._ _ _ _

____“How was that?” uncertainty still blankets his tone though he can read from every thrum of Ten’s veins how good he feels._ _ _ _

____“The best,” Ten grins. He turns to Yuta after, unable to wipe the pleasure from his face no matter how much it contrasts his typical demeanor. “You should drink too, right?” He asks, offering his wrist._ _ _ _

____Yuta waves it away. “Not tonight. Maybe later. You still need your blood, too, you know.” And he’s not going to disturb this moment either; not with the way Taeyong has already curled himself in Ten’s lap with his arms around his neck and his head on his shoulder._ _ _ _

____It’s an intimacy, a falsehood they can all indulge in. As if these times were not tainted with the shared ghosts of their past._ _ _ _

______ _ _

x

Yuta finds it oddly reminiscent when Ten holes up in the hotel bathroom and leaves him and Taeyong in each other’s company, though it’s Taeyong who sips at a blood pack now.

“What is it?” He asks with a laugh, leaning back in the wheelless spinning chair and kicking his feet up onto the bed Taeyong’s on

“What’s what?” Taeyong mumbles back.

“That look.”

“What look?”

“The one that looks like you’re picking me apart cell by cell. Can I help you?”

Taeyong hums, sucking down a few more lazy gulps until the plastic has deflated in the palm of his hand. “What are you hiding from us?” 

Yuta cracks a brow which Taeyong takes to mean he hasn’t hit the nail on the head. His nose scrunches, he shakes his head out, then he tries again. “Or...What do you want to say? I feel like there’s something that’s been there for a while.” That perceptiveness is so truly Taeyong it brings Yuta to a different kind of pause; an ‘is this the return of his memories’ pause. But then Taeyong falters and asks, “...Right?” and Yuta knows they’re not totally there yet. 

“You’re right,” He relents anyway because Taeyong will probably figure him out eventually; if he keeps going at this rate. “There...has.”

Taeyong perks up and inches closer. Eyes wide in eager self-satisfaction, he leans in. “Really? So will you...tell me?”

Yuta rolls his shoulders back and runs his hands through his blonde hair. Were it something simple or playful Yuta would go along with ease but this...this is heavy even for him. He doesn’t want to ruin the precarious positioning of their relationship. He doesn’t want to lead this Taeyong astray. 

His eyes flit over to the bathroom door and prompts a soft “Oh,” from Taeyong’s lips. “You don’t--”

“No I...I will.” Because if Yuta doesn’t say it now, what are the odds opportunity will happen again? And the last time he hesitated he nearly lost his chance for good. “You know I joined you guys because--”

“You were bored,” Taeyong says word for word as Yuta finishes his sentence. 

Yuta blinks. “Yeah… I was bored. I was miserable. I had so few reasons to live and I lost all of them with my own life. And when I met you and Ten I thought at least I could kill time. But then it wasn’t that. Then it was… I don’t know, calling us ‘family’ is weird since we fuck all the time but you know what I mean?”

Taeyong nods.

“And then I realized,” Yuta pauses. His confidence leaves him. But then a touch from Taeyong at his knee brings just enough back. “I don’t want to leave you. Either of you.” 

“You...don’t have to, Yuta. I didn’t think you would?”

“No,” Yuta repeated twice under his breath, shaking his head. “It’s not like that it’s just… You and Ten are inseparable, even with...what’s going on. I don’t feel like I belong with whatever thing the two of you have,” his voice trails.

“But…”

“But I want to. I want to be part of this. I think-... I know that I’ve fallen in love with you. Both of you. This last month has really, really made that certain. I can’t imagine a life without either of you.”

Taeyong takes a moment to chew on that, takes a chance to look Yuta dead on and then drag his gaze over his lips, to his still hands, searching for signs of a liar. “How long?” He tilts his head and when their eyes meet again there’s something unreadable there that Yuta hasn’t seen since Taeyong’s turning. 

“Since the first night we were alone like this. Then even more so when we ran into that sprite before you… Yeah.”

“Yeah… Yuta--”

The handle of the bathroom door turns, but it doesn’t stop Taeyong this time. He squeezes the blonde’s knee with a newfound determination and words that don’t feel right considering his memory loss. “You’re right where you should be.” 

As their human steps out, Yuta glances from Taeyong to Ten and back again. He wants to believe, even if he’s only justifying it on uncertain promises from amnesia lips.

x

“Ten… go to sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Ten protests despite losing balance from the simple act of folding his arms over his chest.

“You’re up every night with us working and I feel pretty certain you’re not resting much when we’re out for the daylight, too.” A feeling in his gut tells him, beckoning images of their time together, watching over Yuta and occasionally taking their own turns to nap. Maybe...a memory?

But Taeyong sends it away with a shake and huffs before manhandling Ten until his head is in his lap. Then he starts running his fingers through raven dark hair, eyes catching glints of silvery strands that weren’t there before. Stress dyed, Taeyong is sure. 

The action is oddly familiar, fondly fitting, and he falls into the motions of petting his best friend. As accompaniment, red lips form around a whistling tune that is gentle and airy, and though Taeyong can’t place its exact origin it gives Ten a glimmer of hope that sets his heart at ease and his mind steadily to rest-- just like when Taeyong subconsciously sang the first few lines of Billy Idol a car ride ago. 

But this is more personal. This is a song of their childhood, shared between the walls of their orphanage. Ten can only pray now that it brings back more of Taeyong along with these memories of his own. Both hands find Taeyong’s free one, clutching close. In the morning he’ll have to drive them to their next event. It’s a big one, too big to overlook since one-third of the guestlist is somewhere on the Underground’s watch list. Lots of good objects ripe for the thieving. But for now he succumbs to his slumber, to the gentle tone of a voice that could’ve been primed for singing if the entertainment industry wasn’t the first to fall apart. 

Better rested and with a less grim outlook on the world, Ten takes the wheel of their beat up car and drives. Taeyong rests beneath his favorite jacket at his side in the passenger’s seat, Yuta, per usual, stays in the back. It doesn’t matter much but Ten turns the volume of the speakers down to accommodate their sleep. It makes them feel more human, and Ten less alone.

What a wonder a night of sleep can do. 

He glances over to the lump of a body next to him and seeks out his hand, linking their fingers loosely with the comfort of knowing Taeyong now, at the very least, after singing _that_ song, would be happy to hold his hand too.

The night’s party demands that they split apart the second they cross the threshold into the hotel. Even now, watching Taeyong slip easily in the role sits with uncertainty in Ten’s stomach but he lets it happen--sends him off with a wave and a wink--and searches for his own partner. 

“I’ll stay close,” Yuta reassures him before taking off in the same direction, and Ten trusts that because only Yuta is keyed into Taeyong in all the ways needed to protect him. He hates it less and less every day, and that’s good enough for him as far as character development is concerned. So long as they stay safe he no longer cares about anything else.

Ten falls with a thud onto the couch in the lobby, cold beer wrapped lazily in his fingers. He had started to scroll his phone but gave that up after a minute, letting his head fall back instead, bearing a neck that’s freshly covered in hickies in return for the pockets full of cash and jewels he now sports. _Job well done,_ he thinks to himself with a smirk then a sigh as he closes his eyes. The motions are growing tired. The fun has seeped out with Taeyong’s memories and the two vampires don’t even ask for most things money can buy.

Ten is starting to think that it’s time to retire. 

“Oof!” A soft sound escapes his chapped lips when a mysterious weight falls into his lap. He cracks an eye open, head tilting. It’s Taeyong.

“...Hi?”

“Hi,” Taeyong chuckles, tilting his own head slightly in a way to match Ten. “Having fun?”

“Y-yeah…?” Ten stammers back. He glances from where Yuta is collecting his beer bottle to Taeyong’s hand pushing Ten’ own back against the plush, faux leather armrest. The other rests across the screen of his phone. “Put your phone down, darling.”

_Oh?_ “Darling?” Ten repeats slowly, brows raising behind his bangs. Taeyong hasn’t called anyone darling since…

As their eyes meet, Ten catches a glint he’d only hoped to see in his dreams. From behind him, with his hands resting gently on Taeyong’s waist, Yuta catches the gaze too; all of Ten’s heightened hopes but quick preparation for doubt. Then he smiles and nods, just once, just enough to spur Ten to gather Taeyong tightly into his arms.

_You’re back. ___

__Ten brings their lips together._ _

___He’s back._ _ _

__Ten’s hand reaches blindly towards Yuta, finding their way gently into Yuta’s soft hair to bring his smiling self closer._ _

__Taeyong deepens their kiss with just a tilt of his head._ _

__“I’m back.”_ _


End file.
